


On a Knife-Edge

by Laikin394



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Fluff, Magic, Out of Character, Prison, Prison Sex, Romance, Rumbelle - Freeform, Shameless Smut, The Enchanted Forest, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:00:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 49
Words: 85,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laikin394/pseuds/Laikin394
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - There is not curse to be broken by a kiss.</p><p>Rumpelstiltskin is in prison for the infamous deal with Cinderella. When he first sees his prison-mate, he doesn't think much of her, but Belle gradually and unintentionally works her way into his mind and soul, becoming his apprentice and life companion. Except that there's always something (including Rumpel's sourness and doubts) trying to keep them apart.</p><p>Fluffy smut spiked with bits of angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> This is the time I approached something more “plotty”. Forgive me when Rumple behaves too much like Snape with all those cocking eyebrows and dark sniggers, I couldn’t help it. I may have slipped into some teeth-rotting fluff occasionally but fret not, there is some angst as well.  
> The chapters are rather short. I know how frustrating WIP can be so I will be updating shortly.  
> The number or clichés per square inch of writing may be record-breaking.  
> Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think! Comments are author’s best reward :3

Rumpelstiltskin heard the sound of steps approaching his cell and lifted his hand up to shield his eyes from the bright light of the torches the guards were carrying. His night vision was sharper than the ordinary human's, and with him spending most of his time in the darkness of the dungeon the light made his eyes sting. The echoing steps alarmed the rat who scattered away from the corner and brushed against his boot. Curling his upper lip in disgust, the Dark One kicked away the vermin.

He'd been in his cage for so long he would have lost track of time were it not for the regular appearance of the prison duty boy who brought him meals - if those could be called meals, he mused. Thin tasteless porridge and some muddy water. Funny how people thought Charming was on his good side. If they knew how he treated his prisoner, they would probably reconsider.

The prison duty boy was quite a funny fellow.  He always carried a lantern with him, which gave off a soft glow, barely enough to make the boy see where he stepped. Rumpelstiltskin believed that the lad was just too afraid to see the face of the Dark One lest he come close to the bars. He would push the tray till it was within the prisoner's reach and the boy's hands would often tremble.

Noticing that, Rumpelstiltskin made sure to taunt the boy or simply to give him one of his trademark high-pitched unnerving giggles. Scaring the boy and making him jump was the only entertainment he got down there.

Even though he did not know whether it was daytime or night outside, Rumpelstiltskin was sure it wasn't time for another portion of his prison ration, so he looked at the procession with mild interest. Maybe some desperate soul was coming to plead for a deal. However, he was disappointed to see that the silence of the dungeon was disturbed by two guards who were half-dragging another person with them.

It was a girl. Slim and not too tall, she was dressed in a horse-riding leather outfit. She didn't look dangerous and Rumpelstiltskin wondered why it took two guards to bring her down to the cell. Or why she was even put in a cell at all. The girl looked more of a dreamy-princess kind who belonged in a tower, singing and doing needlework, waiting for her true love to fetch her and ride with her into the sunset. She probably believed in that kind of love, he mused, even though she would never get any of that. Her clothes were well-made and seemed expensive, which implied she had some kind of aristocratic background. Noble girls never married for love, they were married for land or truce offerings. That, of course, suited the Dark One quite well, at least a third of his deals were concluded with foolish young girls who had a lot of romance but no practicality in their simple little heads.

The guards roughly shoved her in the cell next to Rumpelstiltskin, the girl stumbling on the stone floor and falling forward onto her hands and knees.

“When Prince Charming put me in his dungeon, I expected the luxury of privacy”, Rumpelstiltskin said in a sing-song voice with a pout.

Neither of the guards replied as they turned the time-worn iron key in the lock of the girl's cell. She picked herself up and, turning around, glared at the men angrily. She was very pale and her face was as dirty as her disarrayed hair. She also had the biggest eyes of a rare deep shade of turquoise. Neither her eyes nor her small height helped her look a bit intimidating.

“Fierce little thing, aren't you?” One of the guards cooed at her. “Let's see how you'll feel after a couple of days being next to that lizard.”

Only then did the girl turn to face her prison mate. Hey eyes widened with horror at the sight of Rumpelstiltskin's oversized irises, the green-gold hue of his skin and his long blackened nails.

“Like what you see, dearie?” The Dark one sneered, raising one of his eyebrows in fake interest and baring his yellowed crooked teeth in a snarl.

She gasped at the sound of his cold high voice and backed up, terrified, until she was pressed against the wall of her cell and as far from him as possible. The guards sniggered and walked away, taking the light away with them. As the shadows wrapped around her, the girl began to sob.


	2. Tears and First Words

The girl kept crying till she ran out of tears and just sobbed dryly. She curled herself up in a ball on the thin straw mattress, pulling a dirty rag full of holes over her to preserve some warmth. Her weeping turned into quiet breathing as she inevitably succumbed to sleep. Rumpelstiltskin sat in his cell, watching her. He didn't need to sleep and that was how he spend most of his nights - or what he guessed to be nights according to his inner clock - staring at something absent-mindedly or thinking. Well, that was a half-truth. He would have to catch some sleep eventually, but he hated it.

As soon as he would close his eyes and let his mind slip into half-consciences, he would be haunted by terrible visions. Most of them were random - usually Rumpelstiltskin watched himself murder for the first time, stabbing the men who wronged him repeatedly until hot thick blood covered his fingers and left a metal ting in his mouth; or he was forced to look at his rage-contorted face as his fingers crushed his wife's heart, the expression changing to cruel glee as the wind carried away the dust that was the remains of her life. There were many more - his dark experiments with human flesh; ripping nails off the hand of a man who tried to steal from him and torturing people whose faces he couldn't quite recall. There was no lack of disturbing images which would whirl in his mind and make his sleep restless. He's done his share of evil and he would sometimes dream of the terrible things those who were the Dark One before him did. If he cared to dig deep enough in his memory, he could recall the tiniest details of their lives, but he never cared for it.

Those images (Rumpelstiltskin refused to call them nightmares, they were simply memories of real-life horror) were hard to wake up from. They were like a sticky web that clung to his mind, not allowing him to break free easily and turning his mood foul for days.

The girl's dreams weren't peaceful either, she thrashed around and whimpered. Rumpelstiltskin wondered what could trouble her at such a young age. She looked to be in her early twenties, maybe a little older.

She woke up at the sound of a food tray being shoved in her direction. She jerked upward instantly, looking around wildly. Rumpelstiltskin picked up his bowl of porridge and scowled at its greyish contents. He was mildly hungrybut he didn't want to even think of putting that concoction in his mouth. Rumpelstiltskin actually was amazed by the meal. It must have taken an enormous lack of any cooking skills to prepare that. Did Charming and Snow White hire someone to spoil all his meals? Few of his worst potions could look as bad as this porridge. He could transfigure the food of course, there were spells for it. But it would just be a temporary solution and he dreaded the feeling of the meal changing back to its form inside his stomach as it would probably cause some serious damage. Magic was dangerous to play around with, even though he mastered it, it tended to turn out unexpectedly once in a while.

He entertained the idea of throwing the spoon at the food-boy but decided not to. After all, he didn't want the lad to start spitting into his porridge. Instead he winked at the boy and watched his terrified face with satisfaction.

Rumpelstiltskin noticed that all the girl got was water. She pressed the cup to her lips clumsily and drank the contents down hastily, a few drops escaping her mouth and trickling down her neck. She put the empty cup down and, avoiding staring in his direction (not that she would actually see him in the dark), wrapped herself back up into the blanket and lay down to face the wall. She began crying again, quietly at first but gradually louder as she shivered with cold.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't feel cold nor was he sensitive to heat. His body could adjust to any temperature and he was immune to illnesses, but humans were different. Maybe the girl would catch a cold and die, he speculated, that would be mercy for her.

Her wailing was getting on his nerves though. He hoped she would cry herself back to sleep but after several hours of sobbing he realized that wasn't going to happen.

“Stop it!” He snapped. “You're giving me a headache.”

The girl tensed up and stopped crying indeed, but she also muttered something incomprehensible under her breath.

“What was that, dearie?” He enquired sweetly.

Rumpelstiltskin expected the girl to grow quiet but instead she surprised him by repeating her words clearly.

“I said”, she began, her voice husky from sleep and all the crying, “that you definitely know how to comfort a person.”

The Dark One just blinked at that statement. Did she just give him sass? She certainly did not sound afraid, unlike most people who dared to talk to him. Perhaps she was too dehydrated from all of the crying or did the muddy water made her tipsy? While Rumpelstiltskin was thinking over his reply, the girl sighed and turned to her other side. She pressed her palms together and lifted them to her mouth, breathing on them in attempt to warm up her fingers. She jerked and sat up when she felt something warm and fuzzy brush against her face.

“What was that?”

“Oh, it's just a rat, dearie. It probably came out to gnaw on your fingers when you sleep”, Rumpelstiltskin said matter-of-factly.

He expected the girl to shriek or swoon (she was a lady after all) but she merely frowned at his words. Neither of them spoke again that night, the silence of the dungeon broken only by their soft breathing. The girl kept sitting up as though it could protect her fingers from the rats and drifted away to sleep in that position, not waking up even for the evening meal. 


	3. Acquaintance

The next morning the prison duty boy came down to the cells with a torch, which was put in the holder on the wall on Rumpelstiltskin's side. Well, that made sense. There was no point in putting the girl in a cell next to the caged monster when she couldn't even see what she had to be afraid of.

The girl got nothing but water again and watched Rumpelstiltskin move the bowl of bland porridge away from him. She kept staring at him, more curious than afraid and when he looked back at her, she met his eyes bluntly.

“You're Rumpelstiltskin”, she said confidently. “The dark wizard.”

He gave her a half-bow. Curiously enough she said it plainly, as if talking about the weather. Most people were too afraid to say his name (or they merely had trouble pronouncing it) thus he had many other names - personalized, such as the Spinner, the Imp, the Baby Stiller and the classy ones like the Demon, the Lizard, the Beast, the Sorcerer and the Necromancer. Some believed that saying out his real name would summon him or call his wrath upon the entire village of the person who dared to speak it or even cause the person pronouncing it to drop dead. Still, his true name lived around the town folk. It was mostly silly superstitions but the names did matter after all. When practicing the dark arts, all words had a meaning and a power of their own. Yet no matter how much Rumpelstiltskin enjoyed being feared, he did feel strangely pleased by the girl addressing him calmly and the way his name rolled from her pink lips.

“And who do I owe the pleasure of talking to?”

“My name is Isabelle, but my friends and papa call me Belle. I guess you could call me Belle too.”

Frankly Rumpelstiltskin expected something more extravagant. The girl could be named Guinevere or Forget-Me-Not for the color of her eyes. Really, with names like Snow White and Maleficent, Isabelle seemed too plain and bland. But at the same time Belle sounded… sweet and it suited her, she was pretty after all, even though he'd think the name was intended for someone more vain.

“So are we friends now, _Belle_?” Rumpelstiltskin drawled, tapping his long green fingers on his chin.

She wrinkled her nose, thinking it over. Gods, the girl was actually considering being friends with the Dark One?

“If you want to, we can be”, she said after a while.

“Well, that depends on what you've done to be imprisoned. You realize I cannot risk ruining my good name and reputation by choosing wrong company”, he mocked.

Apparently Belle took his words seriously for her face darkened and she replied somberly:

“I've attempted to murder the Queen, Snow White.”

Rumpelstiltskin's eyebrows went up so high he thought they would disappear into his hairline. This little girl tried to kill the Queen? That was definitely one of the most ridiculous things he'd ever heard. Surely, Snow White was quite annoying, singing and talking to the animals and her voice and manners would rather suit a 12-year-old girl, but he could not think of anyone trying to kill the new Queen for it. Seeing his disbelief, Belle continued the story:

“I… I was forced to! Otherwise my whole family would be in trouble. So now I'm in here until I tell them why I tried to do it and who hired me.”

How adorable, Rumpelstiltskin thought. She wanted to be a hero and save her family, even if she had to cut someone's life short for it. Little did she know how murder could cripple one's soul. His task was to terrify her and to ensure she would never want to find herself in the dungeon next to him. Belle was expected to confess, and that would not be hard to do judging by how she had told him nearly everything he wanted to know in a heartbeat.

“How did you get here?” Her voice broke the train of his thoughts.

“Oh, you know, through the door, dearie.”

Belle gave him a tiny smile.

“No, I mean, why did they put you here?”

“Personally, I prefer to think it was my good looks that threatened the happiness of Prince Charming. The man cannot take competition”, Rumpelstiltskin said, waving a hand before his face, changing his appearance and in a moment it wasn't his face Belle was looking at. The handsome and young fair-haired boy Rumpelstiltskin turned himself into gave the awe-struck girl a big toothy grin.

Belle just stared at him wide-eyed, the little display of magic making her forget how to breathe for a second. How could he just turn himself into another person effortlessly so that no resemblance with his real face remained? Did it hurt, tickle or did his face feel like melting wax while his features shifted? She was so innocently amazed it didn't even occur to her to be alarmed by it. Belle didn't think that his using magic could mean the possibility of hurting her or doing other darker and crueler things.

“… _Or_ it could be something to do with me trying to exercise my right for Cinderella's first born”, Rumpelstiltskin said after removing his glamour.

“Why did you want her first born?”

“Because babies make an excellent roast and I do like a feast with a roast”, he gave her one of the smiles that usually made people tremble with fear.

“You… you're joking, right?” She said, not quite certain.

“Oh am I, dearie?”

Belle frowned and studied his face. Why did he have to be so difficult to talk to? She'd heard some stories from her wet-nurse about the terrible creature that lived in the Dark Castle. Some legends even claimed he came into this world from an egg hatched by a toad, like a basilisk and that was why his skin was green and likely cold and slimy to touch, but none of them mentioned him being a sarcastic or word-twisting insufferable git.

“I think everything happens to us for a reason. I think it was just a misunderstanding and if you tried, you would…”

“Dearie, don't fool yourself for a second into believing I care about what you think”, Rumpelstiltskin interrupted her before the girl could start speaking clichés like "there-is-good-in-you-if-you-try" or "you-need-to-be-fair-to-others". He had no intention of being counseled by some snotty-nosed girl barely out of adolescence. He made a deal with Cinderella and the bitch broke it. Furthermore, she tricked him and now he was in this cage, but he would get his way and his revenge, end of story - Besides, thinking is a bad habit for a woman, I'm sure your husband would not appreciate it.

Belle leaned back against the wall, crossed her arms in front of her and turned to face away from the sorcerer, sulking. That was probably for the best. Her sudden curiosity and chattiness made him weary and suspicious.


	4. Small Kindness

The next morning the girl made a show of not talking to him. Rumpelstiltskin knew it was a show, because she would glance at him when she thought he wasn't looking to determine whether her silent treatment was noted. It was childish of her yet he found it rather amusing.

There was little she could occupy herself with in the cell. Belle undid her messy braid and combed her fingers through her long brown hair in an attempt to untangle it somewhat. It was an absolute failure of course, so she roped her locks back into a braid with a sigh, hoping she didn't have too many loose strands of hair sticking out.

Belle stood up, stretched and walked around the cell, feeling the tingling in her muscles from too much sitting. The front bars of her cell were iron, but Rumpelstiltskin's cell was wooden all around, even the space where their cells adjoined looked easy enough to break. Belle wondered whether it wasn't just plain wood, perhaps it was charmed. She also heard of magic trees that could heal or even grant wishes if you knew the right words. It would be logical that the most powerful dark sorcerer was bound and encaged with magic, she thought.

As Belle stepped around on the rough stone floor, she could almost feel Rumpelstiltskin's dark eyes with oversized irises follow her every move and her cheeks flushed as Belle suddenly became aware of how tightly the leather pants hugged her legs. Her papa frequently told her to avoid wearing this particular riding outfit, always referring to it as provocative and inappropriate for a lady, but she couldn't be wearing a ball dress on her quest. Belle switched her attention to counting the steps she took. She also noted how she hadn't seen any rats since there was light in the dungeon. Belle knew rats were not afraid of the fire and she shivered at the thought of having them back around soon.

When food was brought to them, Belle was disappointed to see she all she got again was water. She sipped it slowly, watching Rumpelstiltskin lift the bowl up to his face to sniff its contents before scowling and putting it aside.

Belle was no longer angry at him but she thought he deserved a cold shoulder after yesterday's remark. She was tired of men treating her like a silly girl. She liked to think she was intelligent, at least she knew for sure she was a lot smarter than most girls her age. Belle had always liked books as they were so much kinder than the real world. After her mother passed away, Belle would comfort herself by escaping into imaginary lands, where there were heroes, adventures and happy-endings. Of course, she read other books too - on math and household, astronomy and medicine, she even gave a shot to a dusty volume of Laws of the Kingdom, but fantasy stories had always been her favorite.

Belle did hope she looked stern and independent by not talking to her prison mate, but her pride was shattered the second her stomach made a loud, angry gurgling noise. She pressed her palms to her middle trying to conceal it. Belle was ravenously hungry. She looked at Rumpelstiltskin's bowl longingly but she still hesitated. She chewed on her lip and finally decided that asking would not hurt.

“Are you going to have that?” Belle gestured at the food.

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head and pushed the bowl across for her to reach. Unfortunately, there was no gap beneath the bars separating the cells for the food to go through.

“Um… thank you. But I think I will need a spoon too, please?”

Again, wordlessly, Rumpelstiltskin stood up and walked to the opposite side of his cell. He passed the wooden spoon to Belle through the bars and she took it with thanks.

He sat down there and watched her scoop up some of the porridge. It was drying up around the sides of the bowl and was probably cold and clammy, and Rumpelstiltskin scowled recalling its taste, but the girl seemed to be too hungry to care. She ate hurriedly, as if he could change his mind and take the food away. It was a bit awkward with the bars in the way as she had to move her hands into his cell to reach for the bowl but she quickly adjusted to it.

“Has anyone told you that it was dangerous to put your hands in a monster's cage? I could bite them off, you know”, Rumpelstiltskin teased.

Belle actually laughed at that, her smile quite disarming.

“Then I'd have to worry about two less things that would get cold on me. 

She finished her meal, scraping the bowl almost clean but didn't move away. Instead she reached forward and covered Rumpelstiltskin's hand with her own.

“Thank you”, she said sincerely, looking up at him.

His skin wasn't slimy after all. It felt warm and slightly rough under her fingers and Belle stroked her fingertips over his palm lightly, curiously.

Rumpelstiltskin was confused. It's literally been ages since anyone touched him without disgust before cringing away and he didn't understand why Belle would do that. He looked up to her face, trying to figure it out, but she met his gaze calmly and without fear. Why would such a simple touch worry him so much? He felt a knot tighten up in his stomach, his breath quickened and he felt excited and nervous for no reason at all. If he didn't know better, he'd think he was under a spell, but he was the Dark One, he knew when spells were cast. Besides, his form could not be influenced by most of them. Most, but not all, he mused, apparently other magical creatures could be used to enchant him, that's how he ended up here after all, but the girl was no nymph or enchantress. He would have sensed that.

He looked down to where their hands were joined. Her small palm was cool on his skin but strangely it felt as though were she to hold it there longer, it would burn a hole through his body. Rumpelstiltskin shook her hand off and turned away, leaning his back against the bars to avoid looking at her, but the feel of her touch still lingered. However unusual it was to be touched, he _liked_ it but he wasn't about to let her know how much he enjoyed that. The girl was probably too overwhelmed with gratitude or plainly silly enough to realize who she was touching. It was a one-time thing and it would never happen again.

Rumpelstiltskin tensed up when he felt Belle's body press to his back. She shifted until she found a comfortable position and sighed.

“It's warmer that way”, she said apologetically, “You don't mind it much, do you?”

He didn't mind, but Rumpelstiltskin would rather bite his own tongue off than acknowledge that. It still struck him as incredibly odd how this girl could trust him so easily. The same person who cried her eyes out days ago was now touching him freely as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if he wasn't twisted, both inside and out - as if he wasn't the dark sorcerer to be hated and despised. The girl was young and naïve, she didn't know one hundredth of what the Dark One was like, otherwise she'd never spare him a second look. To her he was just a man who showed her kindness by sharing his meal and provided little conversation that helped to pass the time.

They were sitting in silence but it was peaceful. He could feel her back move slightly as she breathed and Rumpelstiltskin for a moment wished that there were no bars separating them. That thought filled him with dread. Was he already getting attached? He dismissed the unlikely notion. No, of course he wasn't. He was just bored, that was all. Bored and alone for long enough to enjoy a company of another being.

“Rumpelstiltskin?” She called out softly.

He turned his head to hear her better, his long wavy hair brushing her shoulder and the side of her face. She was sitting so close, her breath felt warm on his cheek. Rumpelstiltskin expected it to be unpleasant, after all she had no chance to brush her teeth or to do anything else about her hygiene, but Belle's breath was neutral and tickled his face as she spoke. Their closeness was a lot more enjoyable than it had any right to be.

“Could you teach me some magic?”

“Why would you want that, dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin used to have several apprentices, but eventually the power clouded their minds, making them hungry for more and they either went mad or attempted to kill their master to absorb his magic. There was one witch however, who he could be distantly proud of, in a way, but he didn't want to think of Regina now.

“Because it's interesting”, Belle replied. “And because I'd do good things with it”.

 _She'd do good things with magic_. The girl was mad, talking to the Dark One like that. Although long ago Rumpelstiltskin had noble goals as well. He wanted to feed the hungry, to end war and put the shredded pieces of his family back together. Everything in life came at a price though; he learnt it the hard way. And even magic with the purest intentions behind it could - and often did - backfire.

“I could teach you to do tricks, but that is all.”

Belle sighed but didn't argue. She moved away from him, hearing the food boy approach and he immediately missed the presence of her little body at his side.

But as Rumpelstiltskin turned towards the intruder, he froze. It wasn't the prison duty boy who brought him meals. It was a stern-looking guard who unlocked the girl's cell, seized her by the arm and roughly dragged her towards the exit and out of the dungeon.


	5. Wounds and Doubts

Rumpelstiltskin paced around his cell that night, giddy and restless. Never did he feel as much as a caged animal. When being led away, Belle turned back to look at him and Rumpelstiltskin felt an invisible hand squeezing his heart. Her face was pale and her large turquoise eyes were wide and silently pleading for help.

He shouldn't care about what happened to her. He'd known her for just few days; she was no one to him. Perhaps Charming or Snow decided to let her go and he was just making a fool of himself. He felt furious and worried and he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it - all of those emotions just overwhelmed him.

Finally he sat down and waited, only his fingers drumming on his hips gave away his anxiety. His eyes were fixed on the entrance to the dungeon to immediately register anyone who might approach.

Rumpelstiltskin spent hours without moving. He could be patient when required but this uncertainty got under his skin. At last he could distinguish a dark silhouette at the beginning of the passageway. He was both relieved that the guard wasn't alone and terrified to see that he was carrying the girl unconscious on his shoulder, her limp body swinging from side to side slightly in time with the guard's steps.

Rumpelstiltskin felt like unleashing all of his pent up emotion on the bearded man. He felt the rage boil in his blood and it took every bit of his willpower not to launch himself onto the guard and feel his neck snap under the sorcerer's fingers. Rumpelstiltskin kept his face neutral but his eyes were pinned to the man. If stares could kill, that one would at least cripple the guy.

“I thought I was done with the wench for good but you brought her back”, Rumpelstiltskin almost hissed.

The man dropped Belle down on the floor unceremoniously and locked her cell. He turned around without as much as giving Rumpelstiltskin a glance and walked away, whistling some merry tune.

The girl was a mess. Her leather jerkin was gone, and the white shirt she had underneath was stained with dried-up blood and it stuck to her back. Rumpelstiltskin guessed the girl was whipped, for the shirt also had long tears here and there. Her wrists looked raw and chafed, she must have been restrained and fought it.

He didn't think Charming would ever order anything like that done to Belle, besides he doubted there was any need to get the information out of her by torture. So, it was most likely the guards' initiative. For a second a terrible idea crossed his mind and he groaned. What if whipping wasn't all they did to Belle, what if they went further and also… but apart from wounds on her back, a cut on her face and bite marks on her lips, it didn't look like there was any more damage done. Her breeches were done up and laced and Rumpelstiltskin calmed down a bit.

Belle was lying on her belly, her face turned towards him. Strangely enough, he didn't see any marks tears would have left. There were smears of dust on her cheeks but they'd been there couple days ago as well. Rumpelstiltskin sighed heavily, feeling a rush of tenderness. Poor Belle tried to be brave. She bit down on her lips until she drew blood but she didn't cry.

She stirred on the floor, giving out a little moan and Rumpelstiltskin saw more blood soaking her shirt. He felt helpless. He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his interwoven fingers under his chin. She would be alright. Belle was young and strong, not to mention quite stubborn. She would get well and scowl at him for his remarks or give him the silent treatment. She would heal, she _had_ to.

Belle turned onto her back during the night and cried out with pain when her wounds made contact with the rough floor. Her skin broke into goose bumps and she turned onto her side quickly, still unconscious. Rumpelstiltskin thought her not waking up was a good sign, sleep was the best medicine.

However, she didn't wake up the next day either. She tossed and turned from her sides onto her stomach, giving out small pitiful whimpers that pierced his heart like sharp thin needles. 

Rumpelstiltskin told himself for the hundredth time to be reasonable and patient. Her body was mending itself, he just had to wait and stop panicking; she was going to be alright. But as he noticed small beads of sweat form on her forehead and chest, he knew that she wouldn't be. She was burning up with fever. He could call for help, but would anyone come? If they didn't care to feed her, would they spare any medicine and nurse her?

He stood up and paced around his cell. Why did he even care? She was _not_ important to him. She would grow old and die and he would go on, as always. Rumpelstiltskin had seen so many people of different generations born and die and none of their destinies affected him in any way. He never felt pity for anyone. But this strange girl had achieved the impossible in just few days - he couldn't get her off his mind, it pained him to see her like that, he wanted her back the way she was, to talk to her, to touch her, to see her beautiful eyes again.

What _was_ wrong with him? Frustrated, he hit the stone wall hard with his fist repeatedly, drawing blood by scraping the skin off his knuckles until his hand felt numb. He wriggled his fingers and scowled as the pain rushed to his fingertips, but he needed that pain, he wanted the distraction.

Rumpelstiltskin knew what he had to do, what he _could_ do, but he hesitated. The instincts of the Dark One screamed in protest. What if it was some trick? Now that he thought of it, it seemed too simple - she was too friendly, too eager to talk even though she knew who he was. She could have been sent by the guards or Charming, as a part of The Plan - to study him, to gain his trust and to learn the monster's weaknesses. Belle seemed so innocent, but was she really?

Even if she wasn't associated with anyone, it still meant danger to him. If anyone learnt that he cared about her, that she somehow softened him, he could be manipulated. They would use Belle against him.

Rumpelstiltskin gritted his teeth. Belle still had the fever but she no longer made any sounds. Her breathing was shallow and ragged, and she flipped onto her back no longer noticing any discomfort. She looked very pale and there were dark hollows under her eyes. Rumpelstiltskin knew she wouldn't last through that night.

 _To hell with everything_ , he thought as he made his decision. He couldn't afford to lose her.

Reaching out for her hand through the bars, Rumpelstiltskin cupped it between his palms. She felt very hot and dry to touch, her skin so delicate he saw the pattern of blue veins under her creamy white skin. Her wrist was so small he could fully encircle it with his thumb and index finger. Her thin fingers with the nearly trimmed half-moons of her nails quivered slightly under his touch.

Rumpelstiltskin raised her hand to his face and pressed a soft kiss to her palm, carefully avoiding the chafed skin of her wrist. He released his magic, reaching for the girl and waiting for the magic to cure her. He could see the change immediately - Belle sighed and her breaths became deeper, her skin no longer broken and her body cooling down. Rumpelstiltskin let the magic clean up her body and wounds, and, satisfied, willed the power back into him.

He sat there for a few moments and gently let go of the girl's hand. She whimpered at the loss and moved until her fingers squeezed her palm tight again. Rumpelstiltskin rolled his eyes. If it calmed her, he had to go with it. After all, there was no one to see him sitting at Belle's side and holding her hand as if he were some sappy, hopeless romantic male-nurse and he was determined to murder anyone who would on sight.

He watched the girl sleep for a couple of hours before relief washed over him. He was content. He'd done many things wrong but healing her was not one of them. There would be a price to pay for it later of course, but at the moment he did not care what that price would be.

His eyelids felt heavy and he dozed off, still not letting go of her hand. For the first time in many years, Rumpelstiltskin slept without dreams.


	6. A Little Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some smut and sex magic ahead. Yay!

Rumpelstiltskin woke up to a feeling of his hair being stroked and he recoiled from it hastily. Apparently Belle felt better, but he noticed that her eyes were misty and unfocused. She reached forward to touch him again, whimpering when the bars prevented her from it.

He then realized what it was. Her body was healed but not in a natural way, and being unaccustomed to the feel of magic inside she sought its source. Magic clouded her mind and she couldn't think clearly, her instincts taking charge of her. Breaking from magic was different for everyone. Some would be aggressive or afraid, but Belle had a gentle soul and all she wanted was company and touch. It would pass soon enough.

Not to upset her, Rumpelstiltskin sat back next to the bars separating them and let her touch him. Her fingers went back to his hair and Belle made a small noise of pleasure, raking her fingers through the wavy locks. She curled the strands around each of her digits and stroked them against her cheek.

She moved her fingers to the back of his head, massaging and scratching his scalp lightly. Rumpelstiltskin sighed and relaxed under her caress, it was simple but quite pleasant. He even leaned forward, resting his forehead against the wooden bars.

He shivered with excitement as her fingers went down his neck and sneaked under the high leather collar of his coat to feel around the edge of his shirt before returning to rest under his jaw. Belle touched his face and he wanted to move away, but she looked quite happy with what she was doing. Besides, she probably could not appreciate his ugliness in the condition she was in.

Belle explored his face like a blind woman, as if she tried to memorize every small feature and wrinkle. Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes as she ran her fingertips over his eyelids, stroking his cheeks and his nose, feeling the shape of his jaw and scratching behind his ears as if he were a bit cat.

Rumpelstiltskin jumped, his eyes opening wide in surprise as something wet swiped along the side of his face. Had she just licked him? Belle opened her mouth and ran her tongue along his cheek and jawline, humming, obviously pleased at how his skin tasted.

Rumpelstiltskin moved away. It was too much. She didn't control herself, so she wasn't responsible for anything she was doing now. Her simple touches, and moreover, _licks_ , had quite a strong effect on him. He was getting aroused, his cock throbbed and he wished… he didn't know what he wished for, but if she kept up what she was doing, he would be the one to lose control.

Belle threw herself at the bars, stretching her arms to him, groaning in frustration when all her fingers met was empty air. The space between the bars was almost wide enough for her to push her head through. Her face was flushed and her nipples turned into two small points pushing against the fabric of her shirt. When she realized she couldn't grab the man, she grasped the bars and ground her hips against them lewdly. Her eyes were wandering and she whimpered:

“Please, oh please, I need to…” She gasped as her mound rubbed against the wooden bar and repeated the motion, moaning and throwing her head back.

It wasn't him she wanted after all. She was horny and desired release. Well, Rumpelstiltskin could provide it. He knew it was wrong but he wouldn't be able to stand and watch her humping away at the cell. He did not trust himself to approach her, for he would probably fail to restrain himself and take her hard right there, thrusting up her willing body until he'd cum deep inside of her.

Instead, Rumpelstiltskin let his magic do the work. It wrapped around Belle's body as he commanded it to please. The magic curled around her middle, warm and a little prickly, throbbing and sending impulses of pleasure to every cell of her body. He had enough common sense to cast the silencing spell around them, for he did want to hear her moan, sigh and express her pleasure as vocally as she desired, but that would be for his ears only.

Belle whimpered as the pleasure slowly built up inside. It felt as she was touched and caressed everywhere at once, she skin getting warmer under each delicious manipulation. As the pressure of invisible hands increased, she felt repeated flicks of magic concentrate in her lower belly. It was strange, there was no direct contact but it was as if someone knew what she wanted. She was very wet and her clitoris throbbed, her nipples straining against the fabric of her shirt, the warmth in her lower belly becoming more perceptible. It was just right, and she moaned and licked her lips until she couldn't take it anymore. She screamed as she came, her pussy contracting and her knees gave way. She sobbed with the intensity of her orgasm but it wasn't quite what she wanted.

Her pleasure was incomplete and lacked something vital but she couldn't quite grasp what it was. Belle whined, frustrated, as she was smart and she knew so many good words but they escaped her as if they were slippery threads she couldn't bring together - when she thought she had them, they slipped through her fingers.

Rumpelstiltskin watched her in awe. Belle was a beautiful contrast to her broken self a couple hours ago. Now her exposed skin was pink with arousal, and her cherry lips glistened wetly in the light of the torch. A few stands of her hair were plastered to her forehead. She moaned impatiently and squirmed on the floor. Rumpelstiltskin mistook her groans for her not being satisfied. This time he decided to forgo the slow foreplay. He directed his power to her core and Belle was in bliss, engulfed by the now familiar magic as she welcomed it inside.

She shrieked as her body convulsed with another orgasm. It felt as if something bright exploded inside of her and hot waves pulsed from the place just under her navel and rippled through her.

It took Belle several minutes to restore her breathing. Her lips felt dry and she ran the tip of her tongue along them. Opening her eyes, Belle caught Rumpelstiltskin staring at her hungrily. He looked predatory, his sharp features enhanced by shadows, his nostrils flaring and his eyes seemed to give off a red glint as if there was a fire burning within him. Belle felt the goose bumps run down her spine. He looked dangerous but somehow it excited her even more. She looked at him pleadingly; her pupils were so dilated there was very little bright blue showing at their rim. Since words had failed her, maybe he could read the unspoken in her eyes and understand what she needed even if she couldn't.

Rumpelstiltskin exhaled loudly through his clenched teeth and tried to concentrate on his task. But as his magic began to run through Belle's body again, she shook her head.

“No”, she whispered. After all, she could gather some words through her fragmented consciousness. “Not this… you, please… need…”

Rumpelstiltskin groaned. It was obviously a tempting invitation, but he knew he shouldn't do it. Belle would regret it when she came to her senses, but it had been so long for him, his cock was so hard and he did not want to be rational. A better man would just wait till her haze passed but he wasn't a good man and he wanted it. There would never be a second chance for him. Besides, she was likely to forget everything by morning. Rumpelstiltskin still hesitated, torn between the desire to ravish her and dreading the possible consequences, but Belle stretched her arms towards him, whispering, pleading again, and it did it for him.

He moved to sit close to her and Belle's fingers clenched the stiff leather collar of his coat, pulling him closer. She practically purred when he obeyed and she nuzzled the dimple in his neck where his collarbones met. Belle was mesmerized by the softness of his skin there and she licked the place repeatedly. She realized that it wasn't quite right for her to do, ladies weren't supposed to behave that way and she was surprised by her own boldness. But he allowed her to do it, and it felt good, the sorcerer gave her more pleasure than she imagined possible and she only hoped her clumsy touches were returning the tiniest bit of it to him.

Her hands sneaked under his heavy coat and stroked his upper arms through his silky shirt. Rumpelstiltskin's skin felt a lot hotter than hers and she wanted to see more of him but the garment was in her way she tugged on it, urging Rumpelstiltskin to shrug it off but he distracted her by stroking her sides lightly before stopping at her hips.

His hands just rested there, rubbing along the hem of her pants and his thumbs drew circles on her hipbones. Belle didn't understand why he paused, whether he was teasing her or asking for permission; she thrusted her body forward and mewled when his hand cupped her mound through the pants. He squeezed and Belle moaned. The hilt of his palm was rubbing small circles on top of her clit and she dug her fingers into the flesh of his upper arms, afraid he would stop before she could cum.

Rumpelstiltskin had no intention of stopping, not now. He wanted to feel her naked skin, to really believe she wanted this. He slipped his hand between her pants and her belly, sliding down past her curls to touch her slit. He groaned when her felt her wetness, she was so slick it was hard to properly caress her. Belle's breath was coming out in small puffs against his chest and she was moaning and almost snarling and she doubled the attention on his neck, biting and sucking and lavishing the skin with her tongue. Rumpelstiltskin just let her rock and grind against his hand as she trembled and whimpered. He wanted to do so many things to her, to uncover her, to lick every place on her, to claim her and mark her as his but he didn't dare to.

Belle literally shrieked as another orgasm washed over her and she bit down on his collarbone as his fingers slid along her inner folds, prolonging her pleasure. Rumpelstiltskin wished he could bury his fingers inside of her, to feel her pussy grasp them as she orgasmed. It was suddenly too much for him. He was hard to the point he ached, and his cock throbbed and twitched as if somehow by caressing Belle he brought himself closer. With a howl he came undone without even touching himself, spurting inside his trousers and holding his breath until the pulsing in his member stopped.

Belle sighed happily and Rumpelstiltskin realized she was watching him the whole time. His orgasm drained him of all energy and he didn't even seem to find any shame or regret in him. It would come tomorrow, but tonight he would just enjoy the moment.

Withdrawing his hand from Belle's trousers, he raised and studied the glistening digits. He lifted his palm to his face and inhaled deeply before carefully licking her juices off his fingers. The taste of her was thick and musky, a bit salty with a slight hint of bitterness. He felt utterly wicked, locking their eyes as his tongue cleaned his fingers  - and between them too.

Belle made a small pitiful noise and pulled him down by the lapels of his coat, her parted lips almost brushing his, but Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head sideways, and her lips just met his cheekbone. She tried again, angling her face but the man steadied her face, cupping it between his palms.

He looked down at her, something close to sadness in his eyes and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. Belle raised her eyes in surprise when he moved back to look at her again, and stared at his lips, hoping her real intention was apparent.

“Later”, he lied, but Belle seemed content with it and nodded.

“Stay?” She asked.

Rumpelstiltskin smirked; it wasn't like he could go anywhere and frankly he had no desire to do anything. He scowled and removed the stickiness in his breeches with a flick of his wrist. Belle dragged her straw mattress closer and settled down on it, grabbing his hand to press it to her chest. A few moments later she was snuffling away peacefully.


	7. Tiny Steps

Belle woke up in an excellent mood and stretched, her body aching from the previous night's pleasure.  She sighed and curled into a ball, drawing her knees to her chest and smiled. She felt happy, despite all the odds. Belle knew most people would find it strange - she was locked in a cell next to the dark sorcerer, she had only been flogged a couple nights ago and almost died, but that morning she was truly happy.

She raised her eyes at Rumpelstiltskin, who was sitting sideways next to her, one of his arms resting on his propped knee and his other leg stretched along the bars of the cell. He studied her face passionately but she beamed up at him, warming up inside even by the grim look on his face.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was husky and strained.

“Joyous”, Belle said sincerely.

She felt like confessing her being happy would just make him withdraw into himself. Even now he was eyeing her suspiciously, looking for a catch. Was he regretting what happened yesterday? Belle failed to see why he would do that. She wasn't thinking clearly and felt a little dizzy, but she knew what she was doing and she _wanted_ to do those things. Perhaps it was her inexperience that upset him. She did nothing for his pleasure but he kept distracting her, besides, she wasn't sure how she could make him feel good. Rumpelstiltskin didn't let her undress him, he wouldn't even take his coat off. But Belle touched his face and hair and he didn't seem to mind, she even licked the exposed skin of his chest which made him moan, but he avoided her lips when she tried to kiss him.

That reminded her of something. Belle sat up and leveled her face with Rumpelstiltskin's, pressing herself against the hard bars wishing they would disappear or that she could seep through them.

“You promised me something”, she reminded him, licking her lips and leaning forward as far as the bars would let her.

“Stop it!” Rumpelstiltskin snapped. Belle didn't listen and grabbed his shirt, pulling him forward. “I said no!”

His voice was hard and determined but he pried her fingers off his shirt gently. Belle chewed on her lip, trying to think. She sensed he wasn't angry with her, so maybe _he_ believed he wronged her.

“Rumpelstiltskin”, she began gently, knowing she wasn't eloquent but she hoped the right words would come. “I have no regrets. I am sorry I was greedy and selfish last night and I do realize it was not appropriate behavior for a lady, but please, give me a chance. I want to know you, and if you do not want my touches, we will take things slow. I will not push you to do anything.”

The Dark One snorted. What kind of game was she playing? Did she even realize what she was asking for? He wasn't a pleasant man and he'd never make a good life companion. No one could ever love or desire him. People used him to satisfy their little magical needs but never did anyone care to get to know him. Was it just her curiosity? Or was she enjoying the challenge, thinking she could tame him and bend him to her will? Oh she would be bitterly disappointed then!

Belle's eyes were fixed on his face. He wished he could trust that her interest was sincere, but that was a luxury he could not afford.

She sighed, seeing his doubts. He didn't want anyone in his life, it seemed, or maybe he was betrayed in the past which made him cautious and reluctant to open to someone. Whatever it was, Belle had made her decision - and once she set her mind on something, she would not back away.

She lifted his hand and rested her cheek against it, uncertainly watching his face, but his expression was unreadable. Yet the man didn't pull his hand away, which encouraged her a bit.

“It's okay”, Belle whispered. “I will prove it to you.”

Rumpelstiltskin didn't dare ask what she meant by _it_. Belle pressed her lips to the center of his palm in a dry kiss and closed her eyes. He didn't know what got into her, or why she craved to touch him, suddenly not afraid he would hurt her.

She talked to him about different things that day. She told him about her papa, and how she felt when her mother died.  Belle told him about her favorite books and quoted her most beloved heroes. She described the view from her room and the names she gave to the cats in her castle. She was ranting and his replies, when she asked him this or that, were mostly one-worded, unless he felt like making an acidic remark that Belle would pout at but laugh away. She knew he was listening closely. Rumpelstiltskin let her chat away merrily, enjoying the sound of her voice, drinking in her gestures and facial expressions. She truly was a strange girl.

It was hard not to like her, but he had to remember it wasn't all that simple. Yes, she may believe she liked him. But they were in unusual circumstances, locked up in a tiny space secluded from the rest of the world. She could be mistaking her feelings of gratitude for… for whatever else she thought them to be.

Belle would never treat him the same way out there. She belonged with her family and friends. He had no one and belonged to the darkness. It was both a blessing and a cruel joke of destiny to have Belle here with him and know it'd never last.

But Rumpelstiltskin let her talk, and smile, and hold his hand. He could still enjoy moments with her, even if his pessimistic thoughts would not let him relax. The problem was, he didn't believe he could be happy with anyone, he often felt as if he didn't deserve anything good, and if just for a second he could let himself forget that, everything would shatter.

He did break things he cared for, after all. Pain and death were his constant companions. And the more he was attached to someone, the more pain he would bring them in the future.


	8. Confusion

Belle was puzzled. She hoped they'd reached some understanding with Rumpelstiltskin, but apparently she was mistaken. Yes, he'd let her touch him if she wanted to, but nothing more intimate than holding hands and he'd share his meals with her even when she didn't ask for food. However, Belle felt he was distant and not a bit sincere. It was as if he was reluctant to push her away but didn't quite enjoy her attention either.

She realized her feelings were strange. Belle had always been rational and slightly over-analyzing, so she tried to keep it cool and dissect her current thoughts and emotions.

Rumpelstiltskin was not a handsome person by any means. His nose was too long and his features too angular, his large eyes with amplified irises and pin-point pupils seemed to look right into your soul. He always frowned or scowled, which deepened the lines on his face, as if he found the mere existence of people around him to be offensive. His flamboyant clothes seemed to accentuate his odd skin color and his gestures were meant to draw attention and make him stand out even more. It felt like everything Rumpelstiltskin did - from his appearance to that unnerving giggle - was to make others uncomfortable, bleak and unimportant compared to him.

There was something else about his looks, something Belle found elusive and hard to describe. Perhaps it was his power (she could feel it better after he used magic on her), or the hint of his complicated past, but Belle sensed the aura of mystery around him - mystery and danger. And it was exciting.

She knew it was wrong. For her whole life, Belle thought she knew what the future had in store for her. She would marry Gaston, who wasn't too bright but whom she would learn to love eventually. He was a man with honor and simple principles, a decent knight and he would make a proper husband. They would have many kids together and she would learn how to be a good wife. That'd please her papa and bind their houses together, just as he desired. It may seem like a boring and banal marriage, but it was for a common good and Belle would be content to do her duty.

Rumpelstiltskin, in turn, was not a pleasant man. He was spiteful and full of bile, his short remarks and sometimes honey-covered words could sting and cut better than the sharpest blade. He always made her silly and clumsy. Belle could never be sure what he'd do or how the dark wizard would react to her words, his temper was short and he could get moody or agitated for no reason at all. She always had to be on her toes.

But despite all that, she liked looking at him and hear him speak. It was wrong. She couldn't put the man out of her head and it wasn't just because they were locked in the dungeon together. Her thoughts would often wander in an unbidden direction, making her blush. It was bad enough to desire his company, but desiring him was a thousand times worse.

Belle was naturally curious, and of course she had discovered and explored her own body long ago. She knew how to please herself, and some of the books she read provided tips and advice on how a woman should behave in the bedroom. Yet she realized that the aim of sex was procreation and that her husband needed to perform his duty to put an heir within her and not pleasure her. Rumpelstiltskin showed her different. Belle wanted to feel his touch on her again, wondering what it would be like to see him naked in turn, whether he would enjoy her caresses and if she could make him moan. Those thoughts were dangerous yet so sweet and to her shame they would make her wet and hot in her loins.

Deep down Belle knew it was inappropriate, she was meant to remain pure for Gaston and as a lady she had to be chaste and virtuous. But she would often watch the man move elegantly around his cell, tuck a loose strand behind his ear or move his finger along his lips when in thought. She collected those little moments, storing them away in her memory as if they were her little treasures.

His lips were nothing remarkable - just two rather thin lines on his cleanly-shaven face (well, Belle never saw him shave, really, but she could recall how smooth his skin felt under her fingers). His lips were usually pressed tightly together or he'd curl them in a lopsided smile. But Belle often watched them move the rare times he'd speak to her and could not stop wondering, what it would be like to kiss him.

Belle had been kissed before, of course, but the books described a kiss as something magical, breath-taking and ultimately wonderful. Being a little girl, she would often press the back of her palm to her lips, to see how being kissed felt. Later when she kissed one of the servant boys and then Gaston at their betrothal feast, it was nothing like either her palm-kisses or the books. Those kisses were wet, clumsy and Belle couldn't understand why people would ever describe them as anything special, perhaps kissing was just overrated. Yet she wanted to kiss Rumpelstiltskin and she knew it would be different, because she was drawn to him and he was able to produce a whole storm of emotions in her with just a smirk or a raised eye-brow.

One evening, a particularly wicked thought crossed Belle's mind - what if he could use his lips to kiss her someplace else, not on her face - she felt a shiver run down her spine and squirmed. Her cheeks probably gave her away, for they felt hot and most likely turned pink. She glanced at Rumpelstiltskin who sat across from her against the further wall of his cell and seemed to eye her closely.

“What is it”, he snapped, irritated by her squirming and the stares she would give him from under her eyelashes.

It seemed to make her face turn even a deeper shade of pink, as it crept down her neck as well.

“I… I don't feel quite alright”, Belle said, licking her lips. It was true, she felt warm and she longed to be touched.

Belle saw Rumpelstiltskin's eye darken as he watched her tongue moisturizing her lips. He exhaled noisily and she was thrilled to see how something so simple seemed to capture his full attention.

“Where exactly do you feel unwell, dearie?” His voice was just a low growl that went directly to her sex, making her wetter.

“Here”, Belle said, running her fingers along the rim of her cotton shirt.

She felt so wicked, teasing him. She'd never think she had it in her to behave that way. It went against everything she was taught but she didn't care for a second. She liked to have his eyes on her and she realized Rumpelstiltskin enjoyed it as well - his breathing became shallow and he leaned forward a bit to see her better.

Encouraged by his reaction, Belle ran her fingers on top of her breast, giving it a little squeeze. She liked to be watched by him, her arousal overpowering the shame. Keeping their eyes locked, she unlaced the top of her shirt and slid her hand inside. Her fingers felt cool against her chest and her nipples turned into small buds at the contrast. Belle rolled them between her fingers and pinched them in turn, her other hand cupping and massaging her breasts through the fabric. Belle has always found her breasts to be small, they fit in her own hands easily but obviously Rumpelstiltskin found them attractive. He grunted in appreciation but did not make any move towards her, even though he shifted in his seat.

Belle sighed. She promised she would not push him to do anything, but she was randy and she wanted him to desire her as well. She moaned as she kept caressing her breasts, not sure whether she enjoyed the actual sensation or the hungry look in the man's eyes. Belle let her right hand move towards her belly and lower, resting at the top of her trousers. She didn't dare to bare herself for him, or not yet at least. As her fingers lingered on top of her breeches, Belle felt like she'd burst if she kept teasing herself.

“Do it”, Rumpelstiltskin's voice was so low he almost hissed.

Belle didn't fight the command, not when that was what she wanted so desperately. Her fingers sneaked into her trousers, finding the source of her desire. She was very wet, and she gathered juices from between her folds to spread them around her clit. She moaned as she captured it between her index and middle fingers, sliding them up and down along the sensitive nub.

“Yessss, that's a good girl”, even though Rumpelstiltskin was uncertain about touching her, he did not feel shy with his words.

His deep voice made her desperate. Belle pulled on her clit, rubbing it and rolling it between her fingers, just the way she liked it. She'd done it before, but never had the feeling been so sweet and sharp. She squirmed under her own touch and sighed, she only wished it were his fingers bringing her the pleasure. Belle bit her lips, holding back the moans, but small whimpers and sighs still escaped. She felt both weak and powerful under Rumpelstiltskin's gaze as he encouraged her with words. She couldn't bring herself to concentrate on what he was saying, but the mere sound of the hunger and excitement in his voice and the knowledge that she was watched spurred her on.

Her fingers moved faster, slick with her juices, she was so close, her pussy throbbed with anticipation. Belle's toes curled when she came, crying out. She didn't stop rubbing her clitoris, prolonging her orgasm, until she became too sensitive to touch. Her skin was damp with perspiration and she was panting as if she had just run several miles. Belle felt wanton and light-headed, but she smiled at Rumpelstiltskin.

She was unsure what to say, but somehow she didn't feel ashamed and awkward as she was supposed to. Belle glanced down at his crotch; his cock was hard and bulged out against his breeches. He made no move to touch or cover himself.

“Do you… Uh… Should I?.. Should I touch you too?” Belle didn't expect herself to be so brazen.

She was exhausted but she wanted to touch him if he'd let her. Rumpelstiltskin fancied frightening and intimidating people, but Belle's hunch told her he'd not force her to do anything or hurt her, at least not in this. After all, he's only given her pleasure so far.

Rumpelstiltskin looked at her with surprise, but shook his head in a silent no. Belle felt too drained, both emotionally and physically to argue. She suppressed a yawn and stretched down on her straw mattress.

“Well, if you change your mind in the morning, the offer still stands”, she murmured before drifting off to sleep.


	9. Acceptance

Rumpelstiltskin was confused; he could not understand why Belle behaved that way. She smiled at him when she woke up and talked to him throughout the day. It did not discourage her one bit when he scowled or snapped at her; she would shake her head as if he was a misbehaving child and keep on talking to him. Besides, she kept seeking his touch, however small or casual it might be. He’d think her insane for wanting to touch him as if he didn’t know any better. When she slept, he often reached out for her with his magic. Other than being under weight from poor nutrition or feeling the chill from the dungeon, Belle was alright; he fixed those things of course and if Belle noticed or was surprised by seldom feeling cold or hungry when she woke, she never made a remark. Perhaps she didn’t even notice.

At first Rumpelstiltskin thought that the magic still made her act strange. But he hadn’t used it as much to cause any side-effects, besides, the girl seemed to be bright and aware of her surroundings.

Still nothing could explain her obsession with the idea of holding hands with him, which was utterly ridiculous. Back then when he was human, which seemed like it was in another life, he was young and (as he thought) in love with his wife – even then neither Milah nor anyone else ever expressed any desire to touch him as much as Belle wanted to.

Rumpelstiltskin would understand if it was just a plain physical need for satisfaction, he was sure he could do it perfectly and bring the girl off several times in a row until she’d beg him to stop. He could easily pleasure her with magic – thus eliminating any direct contact between them – but Belle always refused it when he hinted at it. She’d sigh and even thank him, but claim she wanted to be touched by him and not magic.

It’d be quite simple if she wanted something from him. Rumpelstiltskin was genuinely surprised Belle didn’t. Most people in her place would ask for a favor or a deal, to be granted a wish or request a demonstration of power. Surely the girl wasn’t so stupid to forget she was kept next to the Dark One but she hadn’t asked anything of him. Could she truly accept him for what he was, and not his façade of magic and might?

Her every touch was a small wonder to him, but Rumpelstiltskin often felt like they were too much for him to bear. He was weak for enjoying those moments and he had to keep reminding himself it was some cruel joke, that it would not last. Half of the time he expected her to laugh in his face for believing she was sincerely interested in him. He’d shake her hand off him then and recoil to the back of his cell, pulling his knees up to make himself small and less noticeable and hide his face behind the curtain of his dark wavy hair. When Belle would give up trying to touch him or pet his hair during such moods, she’d just settle down and look at him, her large eyes fixed on his face. Those quiet stares unnerved him. What was she thinking about when she studied his face like this? What was she seeing?

Rumpelstiltskin knew he was not a bit attractive, but Belle’s eyes weren’t judging or mocking. He’d often meet her gaze and try to read her, but he’d always look away first, her clear innocent blue eyes overpowering his dark ones.

The girl was bad for him. He couldn’t recall the last time someone could make his blood run faster or settle sparkles of desire by merely chewing on her lips. She could get him hard within seconds, without even trying; Belle probably wasn’t aware of how she affected him. Rumpelstiltskin would often catch himself staring at her chest, or admiring the elegant curve of her neck. The girl was pure seduction and his cock throbbed at the thought of taking her, claiming her maidenhead and marking her as his.

If it was someone else in her place, Rumpelstiltskin would just take what he wanted with power – not caring a bit about the girl’s wishes. Yet he felt timid with Belle, as if touching her could somehow ruin her, as if he could break her and shatter this small understanding between them to pieces. He decided he’d not show any initiative. He’d let her do as she pleased but he made sure it’d never go too far.

That day Belle seemed quiet and thoughtful, as if something troubled her. However she did not mind being close to Rumpelstiltskin, reaching for his hand to pull it through the bars and resting it on her crossed legs. He failed to see what could be so fascinating about his hand –his palm was rather broad with large knuckles, with calloused skin and he personally believed his hands looked like they belonged to a farmer, not a sorcerer. She settled down to studying it nevertheless, stroking his green skin with just her fingertips. His fingers were   
quite long and thin but flexible, as a lot of spells required precise and complicated movements. Belle didn’t know that, of course, but simply admired them. His hands looked strong and gentle at the same time, she was sure he could tenderly hold up a vial of the thinnest, finest glass or bend iron if he chose to.

She turned his hand palm up, tracing the patterns along his wrist. The skin there was gentle and softer, of lighter shade, something between light green and grey.

Belle frowned at how smooth the skin was. He had no destiny lines which was strange and unsettling. Did it mean his life was merely a blank canvas ahead of him or that there was no happiness or love for him? Or perhaps she was just being superstitious and it meant nothing at all?

Belle lifted his palm to her lips. She kissed the inside of his hand, her breath warm and tickly. Rumpelstiltskin tried to pull his hand free but she held it in her grip tightly.

Looking up, she thought about asking him about the destiny lines but stopped when their eyes locked. Rumpelstiltskin’s expression for once wasn’t frowning or mocking. He was looking at her calmly, his eyes wandering about her face as if searching for something, as if he was trying to read her but some tiny detail slipped away from him.

Acting up on a sudden whim, Belle intertwined her fingers with his. The gesture was quite intimate but also natural. She expected Rumpelstiltskin to pull his hand free, but he only stared down at their locked hands. The contrast was remarkable. It was strange how small her palm seemed against his hand and how much lighter her skin was.

“Why do you keep doing this," Rumpelstiltskin sighed, speaking more to himself than her.

Belle couldn’t quite understand why everything had to have a reason, why he couldn’t just accept that what she was doing felt right and was what she wanted. It wasn’t as if she was doing something unpleasant to him. Surely he found her attractive and enjoyed her touches.

Their faces were so close Belle could focus her vision on very little except for his eyes. His warm breath caressed her lips and she licked them unconsciously. Belle’s heart pounded and with another heavy sigh Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head and moved even closer until his lips came to rest on hers lightly.

He did nothing more, his body tense, expecting her to pull away. Belle squeezed his hand, hoping he would take it as an encouragement. She didn’t dare to move and she was not sure how the kissing worked. Even the smallest things the man did usually provoked an unexpected reaction from her and she was afraid to ruin this almost-kiss, to rush it and break the spell.

Sensing that Belle wasn’t going to dash aside, Rumpelstiltskin dragged his dry lips sideways to the corner of her mouth, pressing a light kiss there. Belle’s heart fluttered like a caged bird and her face felt suddenly hot. She closed her eyes and parted her lips, hoping for more, praying he’d not stop.

Rumpelstiltskin repeated the feather-brush of his lips and then captured her lower lip between his, pulling on it and moving his head back until her lip popped out of his mouth. He paused to look at Belle. Her eyes were still closed and she gripped onto his hand for dear life, not letting him move away. Her cheeks were flushed, a pretty rosy color that flattered her creamy skin, with long shadows cast by her lashes; her lips were dark-red and parted. He wondered how she could look both innocent and seductive at the same time.

He realized he’d been staring at her for far too long when Belle’s eyes opened with confusion. Rumpelstiltskin could not stand her looking at him now for he’d never been brave and, having just succumbed to her, he had to accept that he wanted it too, and that required courage. Besides, if Belle wanted to recall that moment later, she could always pretend it was someone else kissing her, someone young and handsome, someone who would deserve her and be able to make her happy.

With a snap of his fingers, Rumpelstiltskin put the torch out and covered Belle’s lips with his again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind there's no True Love's Kiss in this fic - Rumpelstiltskin will remain the green-skinned bastard just because I want him to.


	10. Exploration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than the others; I do get carried away with my Rumbelle smut and I felt like breaking up the chapter would spoil the fun! Hope you guys don’t mind.

Rumpelstiltskin got bolder and teased her full bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Belle moaned as the sensation sent goose bumps down her back and arms and she arched her back pushing up against the bars to press closer to him. With a grunt Rumpelstiltskin began to suck on her lip, scraping along it with his teeth and licking it to diminish the little pain he caused. He moved his mouth on top of hers, carefully sliding his tongue in to stroke it against hers. Belle whimpered and suddenly the kiss turned into an urgent one, his tongue invading her mouth, touching the tips of her teeth, licking her pallet and battling against her tongue. He would switch from little bites to nibbles, before pushing his tongue back into her mouth or sucking her tongue into his mouth.

It felt as if Rumpelstiltskin tried to claim her, to show that she belonged to him and no one else would ever dare to kiss her the same way. The thought seemed to be quite pleasant to Belle. The kiss was certainly nowhere near her palm-kisses or clumsy attempts with Gaston. It was consuming, making her body tingle with desire. She was not sure how long he’d been kissing her – it could have been moments as well as minutes, but she knew she never wanted it to stop. 

Rumpelstiltskin moaned when Belle eagerly responded and tried to mimic the movement of his tongue, the sound vibrating down her spine. His right hand went up to cup her cheek, the pad of his thumb drawing circles on her cheekbone and his other fingers gently scratching at the nape of her neck.

Belle pulled away a little, gasping for air. He thought he should stop; he was taking things too far, but those thoughts were blown from his head as Belle leaned back to kiss him again. She took the lead this time, her kiss a little clumsy but urgent as she let go of his hand and grasped his high leather coat, pulling him closer. She was quite possessive for such a petite thing Rumpelstiltskin mused as Belle’s tongue explored his mouth and danced around his. 

He let one of his hands cup the back of her head, massaging it and holding her close. His other hand moved to stroke the side of her neck and down her collarbone. His movements were slow and unhurried despite the passionate kissing. He wanted to enjoy the texture of her skin; her softness and warmth. He didn’t know how far the girl wanted to go and he was sure groping would only scare her. Despite being already hard, he knew he would stop if she requested. After all, he could not have her. She would most likely regret it. Pre-marital liaison would destroy her life and make her an outcast. An association with the Dark One would result in her being burnt at the stake. 

“No, wait,” Belle pulled away as he placed his hand on her breast. Rumpelstiltskin frowned. Even though his thoughts were quite rational and well-intended, his body was reluctant to let go of her. 

“It’s not that,” Belle said as if she knew what he was thinking. “I do want to but you’re just… uh… distracting me too much and I want to feel you. Will you let me do that? Please?..” 

Like she had to ask for permission to touch him. 

“Tonight do as you please, dearie. I’m all yours to explore,” Rumpelstiltskin said with a hint of sarcasm, dropping his hands at his sides.

Ignoring the taunt in his voice, Belle decided to do just that. But having received the invitation, suddenly she felt lost. She had a general idea of what coupling was like but neither of her books described the correct way to touch a man. Should she undress him, or feel him through his clothes? Was there a certain etiquette and sequence of touches, or should she just go for the part of his anatomy that fascinated her most? Belle decided to begin with things she was certain of first, to start with petting his hair and moving down his body. She only hoped he’d not find her silly or clumsy and laugh at her inexperience. 

Belle raked her fingers through Rumpelstiltskin’s wavy locks, careful not to pull his hair where it was tangled. She scratched his scalp lightly and he sighed, leaning back into the touch slightly. Her fingers moved to the sides of his neck, stroking it with her fingertips first and gradually applying more pressure. His skin felt hot and rough from the scales, but there was no hint of stubble. However, his coat was in the way.

“Will you be cold if you take it off?” she asked. He must have shook his head with a no because his hair swiped across her face and Rumpelstiltskin shrugged the heavy coat off. She undid the fastenings on his vest as well, pushing it off his shoulders, the leather sliding down to the floor with a soft whisper.

Belle wished she could see him, the darkness was leaving her a bit disoriented. But her other senses could make up for her lack of vision. She smoothed her palms on his shoulders and down his arms, enjoying the flow of silk under her fingers. He did feel warmer than she expected, perhaps it was his usual body temperature or maybe it was the arousal affecting him.

Belle’s fingers found the lacing in front of his shirt and pulled, making it loose around the neck. Her fingers slipped beneath it to stroke the dimple where his neck and chest met and along his collarbone. The skin on his chest was free of hair and softer compared to his neck, the scales finer and less dense. Suddenly she wasn’t satisfied with touching only. She leaned forward and rested her head against his shoulder, wishing the bars weren’t in the way and she could embrace the man properly.

Rumpelstiltskin was still tense, his breaths short and uneven but he didn’t speak a word or try to stop her. Belle pressed her face between his shoulder and neck and inhaled deeply. He smelled of something bitter, like smoke and sagebrush, but there was some hint of lemon and musk. She decided she liked it and swiped her tongue across his neck. Rumpelstiltskin let out a shaky moan at this and cocked his head to the side, exposing his neck and giving her better access. His skin tasted a bit salty, but Belle found it to be not a bad taste; it was quite pleasant, actually. She repeated the lick and then put a trail of kisses up to his jawline. She felt so wicked and powerful and she bit down on the spot just under his ear.

That seemed to break Rumpelstiltskin’s self-control and shatter his stillness. With a groan he hooked his fingers under Belle’s chin, careful not to hurt her with his long nails, urging her to lift her head up for him and crushed her lips in a kiss, sucking and biting her bottom lip. His hands grabbed her butt cheeks through her leather pants and squeezed them hard, lifting her up and against his hard body, letting her feel the rigid length of his cock. The tips of his fingers reached down far enough to stroke at her entrance teasingly, moving in circles.

One of his hands pulled on her shirt, tugging it free from her breeches and slid underneath the fabric. Rumpelstiltskin’s fingers drew random patterns on the small of her back and he ground his hard cock against her stomach. Belle moaned into his mouth. She was extremely aroused, the darkness heightening her senses. But maybe it was for the best, she was probably flushed all over. The light touch of his fingers on her naked skin sent electric jolts against her spine and she felt like he could drive her over the edge with just the kisses and the pressure of his fingers against her sex.

Belle pulled away for air and frowned. It wasn’t fair of him to distract her from discovering his body. Besides, she wondered if she could make him lose control and moan under her touch. Both of Rumpelstiltskin’s hands returned to kneading her butt as Belle placed a kiss on his chin and down his neck, flicking her tongue against his adam’s apple before stopping to lick the protruding collarbone. Her fingers hesitantly snuck under his shirt and caressed his sides.

Belle moved her hands to his belly, which quivered slightly under her fingers, and she wondered if he was ticklish there. She stroked the trail of coarse hairs leading down from his navel and Rumpelstiltskin swallowed hard. Belle paused as her fingers reached the top of his leather breaches, suddenly shy. But she was stubborn too and once she set her mind to something she wouldn’t change it, besides her curiosity urged her on. 

She placed her palm on top of the bulge in front of his pants, cupping them lightly, and was delighted to hear a quiet moan. Rumpelstiltskin felt his cock throb. Her touch was too light but still he thought he could cum even from that, her unsure fingers driving him mad with desire. 

Belle wondered how he could ever even put those breeches on. His cock was incredibly hard, pushing against the leather and she could feel its heat even through the clothing. She tried to undo his pants but her fingers fumbled with the fastenings. She tugged and pulled on the cords but somehow it only made the knots tighter. 

“Help me?” she asked, frustrated. 

Rumpelstiltskin untied the lacing but made no move to push the breeches off. He was kneeling on the floor, just like she was, and Belle pulled his pants down quickly as far as they’d go. She stroked his bare thighs, feeling the sparse short hair and held her breath as her hand wrapped around the girth of his cock. Her fingers could barely close around the thickness and Belle just held it in her hand. His cock was hot in her grip, both very hard yet the skin was velvety soft and tender at the same time. 

Belle moved her hand upwards and Rumpelstiltskin moaned. She repeated the motion, down and up the shaft again, feeling the skin move with her strokes. She had no idea how big that part of a man was usually like, but she thought his cock was rather large. Belle moved her fingers to the bulbous tip. It was slightly wet and sticky and she spread the moisture around the soft head. She returned to pumping her hand on the shaft for he seemed to like it best, bucking his hips forwards into her touch and breathing heavily, but she still wasn’t sure if she was doing it right. 

“Show me how to,” she pleaded.

Rumpelstiltskin’s hand covered hers, tightening her grip. Belle would never dare to squeeze it so hard. He guided her hand along, making long rhythmic strokes and rotating their hands slightly when they reached the head. He picked up the pace, breathing out through his teeth noisily and Belle felt his cock harden even more. Rumpelstiltskin leaned down for a kiss, groaning and sucking on her lips. He pumped their hands even faster and gave away a long moan. His cock throbbed and Belle felt her fingers splattered by hot fluid as he came. He stopped stroking when he was done and snapped the fingers of his other hand, leaving them both clean with no trace of his semen.

Belle felt both proud and a little silly as Rumpelstiltskin pulled away and straightened up his clothing without saying a word. Did she do something wrong? He seemed to enjoy it but maybe now he felt annoyed with her clumsiness? Was asking for him to guide her the right thing to do?

But before she could open her mouth to apologize or at least say something, Rumpelstiltskin wrapped his hands around her again, pushing her close and kissing her with no less passion than before. Belle’s body was pressed against the bars uncomfortably but she wasn’t about to complain as his hands confidently went under her shirt to cup her breasts. She squirmed impatiently as his thumbs circled her areolas and went over her nipples. At the same time she felt a rush of magic caress her sex, building up her pleasure. It was too much – his lips on her, his thumb and forefinger tweaking her nipples and his magic pulsing and throbbing in her. Belle came undone with a husky moan, shaking against him, her inner walls clenching with the force of her orgasm.

Rumpelstiltskin caressed her through it and didn’t immediately break the embrace. Belle rested her head against his shoulder as her heartbeat slowed and her breathing became even again. She smiled as she felt his hand petting her hair. It was even better than she imagined.

Belle felt completely and utterly happy.


	11. A Trade-off

When Belle opened her eyes, the dungeon was dimly lit by the torch again. Turning her head, she caught Rumpelstiltskin sitting across from her, his back against the wall. The light didn’t reach his face but Belle was sure he was watching her. She stretched, sat up and smiled at him.

“Morning,” she said softly.

She realized her appearance was a total mess. Her lips felt swollen from kissing and her hair was in complete disarray, furthermore she would really like to change her clothing. Rumpelstiltskin’s outfit, in turn, looked impeccable as always. The man may not be handsome, but he surely knew how to dress.

“Could you um… clean me up a bit?” Belle waved her hand over her body. “If that’s not too much to ask.”

“And what will a get in return?” His voice was low and…suggestive. “You know, dearie, everything has its price.”

Belle chewed on her lips before replying – an old habit from her childhood which often got her scowls and weird looks from _proper_ ladies. She was sure Rumpelstiltskin was just teasing her and he’d probably do as she asked even without receiving anything back, but she decided to play along.

“A kiss,” she said simply.

Rumpelstiltskin snorted and waved his hand, wrapping Belle in the purple haze of his magic. She sighed contently when her clothes had been cleaned and her hair was straightened in a neat braid. Standing up she walked across her small cell and pressed her face between the wooden bars.

“A kiss for my savior now?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“You do not have to do this,” Rumpelstiltskin was suddenly somber.

“What if I want to?”

“Then the lady should do as she pleases,” he gave her a curt nod as the approached her.

More confident about touching him now and grateful for being able to see him, Belle cupped his face in her hands. He seemed so imposing in his high-collar jacket and it was almost hard to believe it was the same man who kissed her so passionately the night before. Raising herself up on her toes to reach him better, Belle placed light kisses on his cheeks, slowly moving towards the corners of his mouth, before his stern glares could rob her of all of her bravery. Rumpelstiltskin’s lips were pressed together and she tried to coax them open with her tongue. She was successful after a few licks and he parted his lips, deepening the kiss, responding quite enthusiastically but letting her take the lead.

Belle closed her eyes, melting into the kiss. She could feel sparkles of desire deep within her, but it wasn’t as rapid and consuming as yesterday’s. It was more of a slow-burning that would eventually overpower her but for now she simply enjoyed the kiss - not speculating on where it could lead. She was confident there was time for them to explore each other so Belle merely cherished the moment without the urge to achieve a climax.

However, the man seemed to have other ideas. Apparently changing his mind about Belle being the only one to show the initiative, Rumpelstiltskin shifted to press closer to her, running his hands down her back, the warmth of his palms seeping into her skin through the thin fabric. His movements were meticulous and precise, touching her in the right places, less hesitant now than they were the night before. He did put out the lights again though and Belle felt somewhat disappointed. On the other hand, she wouldn’t be able to keep her eyes open when he was kissing her like that.

His lips moved to her neck, nibbling and giving little licks right on the sensitive spot just under her ears. Belle moaned at the same time as one of Rumpelstiltskin’s palms slipped inside her pants, rubbing along her already slick clitoris. She didn’t even realize she was so wet as his fingers separated her inner folds gently to gather some moisture before returning to her clit, rubbing the hood in a circular motion with the perfect amount of pressure. Belle whimpered, his touch too overwhelming for her to last. She felt weak in the knees as Rumpelstiltskin’s mouth covered one of her breasts and he sucked her nipple through the shirt. The fabric, wet with his saliva, clang to her chest like a second skin and provided very little barrier against his wicked tongue. He sucked harder, raking his teeth over the sensitive nub lightly. Belle tried to steady herself by holding onto his shoulders as Rumpelstiltskin switched to the other breast, repeating the caress.

Belle’s nipples had never been particularly sensitive, but when he flicked his tongue across them in turn, she felt as if there was a direct connection between her breasts and her pussy. Her orgasm was approaching too fast, irreversible and merciless like a tide and Belle shuddered, becoming undone, the whole world ceasing to exist. She could only feel his fingers rubbing her and the gentle pressure of his mouth on her breast and she came, crying out, her inner walls clenching and the blood pounding in her ears. She squeezed her eyelids so hard she could see white stars appear and for a few moments she was oblivious to anything but the heat in her lower belly, the pleasure unbelievably intense, raising up to envelop her body. Belle was amazed she had the power to stand up through it.

“That was just… Thank you!” she said, breathless and sure she could not possibly find the right words for what she was feeling, kissed him, reaching down to the front of his pants and rubbed the flat of her palm against his crotch.

With a grunt, Rumpelstiltskin freed his erection from the constraints of his pants, pulling at the Belle’s shirt to expose her stomach. It didn’t take him long, only a few short strokes of his hand until his cock exploded. Belle winced a little, more with surprise than anything else, when thick hot fluid covered her belly, but she didn’t pull away.

Rumpelstiltskin’s hand spread his semen around her skin, rubbing his fingertips in small circles, before it could trickle lower. It was strange but not unpleasant and Belle let him do it.

After several minutes, Rumpelstiltskin re-lit the torch and restored her clothing, her shirt clean and dry once again, leaving no evidence of his messy enjoyment. His hand was dry as it cupped her cheek, only a faint trace of musk still clinging to it.

“Sorry about that,” he said quietly, his eyes worried.

Belle only smiled and leaned against his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. Those two just cannot stop, but can you really blame me for that? :)


	12. The Deal

They sat at the floor of the cell, Belle’s head tucked under his chin and her fingers playing with the cords of his shirt. She seemed quiet and very concentrated.

“A coin for your thoughts?” Rumpelstiltskin enquired, ticking her ear with the fluffy end of her braid. “Or perhaps you’d prefer a bag of gold?”

Belle sighed. “I was just thinking, would it be a lot different if we were not kept here?”

He had nothing to say to that. He was drawn to her, but he would probably not approach her if they met someplace in the Enchanted Forest. She _was_ both pretty and intelligent, those two qualities so rarely combined in one person, but what did he have to offer her? Gold and gifts would not buy her, it never occurred to her to ask for bigger favors than being clean, so physical comfort and material objects were of little interest to her. He couldn’t see them having a conversation or taking a walk together out there in the bright sun, that was just too surreal and… normal.

Rumpelstiltskin was a bit of a pack rat, being raised in poverty and often failing to provide for his family. After becoming the Dark One and gaining the ability to reach out and claim nearly anything he wanted, collecting rare things and spending hours admiring his trinkets had become his favorite leisure, but Belle was not a thing. Yet he failed to see how she would ever choose to stay with him, unless held by force against her will.

“Do you want to get out, then?” He finally replied, immediately realizing how ridiculous he sounded. Of course she wanted to escape. The dungeon was cold and miserable, there was nothing to do and she was pretty much starving, only magic making up for the lack of proper nutrition. Belle said she liked reading, so sitting around idly went against her zealous nature.

Escaping the dungeon was not hard at all, but Rumpelstiltskin had no reason to do it previously. He did require assistance - for the wooden bars were magic-proof and needed to be opened by someone else, but that could be easily achieved with a bit of plotting. Yet he was somewhat curious to see how Snow and Charming would act. They didn’t plan to keep him down there forever and surely someone would soon come to ask for a deal. Magic wasn’t scarce in the land, but very few warlocks or witches were as agreeable as Rumpelstiltskin.

But was he ready to let Belle go? After all the worries and doubts he finally began to grow accustomed to the idea that he could have her. Freeing her would mean he would lose her for once she was out; she’d not offer him even a spare glance. She’d return back to her family, banishing all the thoughts of their short time together like it was a bad dream. He felt suddenly angry with this thought, as if he were a big child whose favorite toy was about to be taken away.

He had to think of something, quick. What could bind her to him, make her stay longer? Rumpelstiltskin recalled the girl asking to be taught magic. While in his heart he believed she’d never make a good witch, she was too kind and gentle for dark magic, he could show her how to make healing concoctions and pass on bits and pieces of his knowledge.

“I’ll say what, dearie. How about a deal? If I help you escape, you will come with me to my castle.” Rumpelstiltskin propositioned.

Belle lifted her face to look up at him, her expression puzzled.

“For a year,” he added reluctantly.

“And what would I do at your castle?”

“You did say you wanted to learn magic, and I could accept you as my apprentice. Or, perhaps, I could teach you other… _things_ ,” he said suggestively, lowering his voice as if he were confessing some dark secret. He smirked seeing the blush creep up Belle’s face as she caught his innuendo. Apparently, the idea didn’t seem to be as horrifying to her as it would have been to anybody else. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Where do I sign?” she asked humorously. “Do I need to do it with blood?”

“How barbaric,” Rumpelstiltskin scowled. “Your word will suffice.”

He knew he shouldn’t ask but he couldn’t hold back his curiosity.

“Aren’t you going to ask for the details, dearie? You realize you leave so much room for me to twist this. I could lock you in my own dungeon or use you for potion ingredients,” he said, not entirely joking.

“I trust you.”

Those three words shook him more than they should have. _I trust you_. It was an impossible, most unlikely notion bordering on the verge of foolishness. How could she trust him? He’d seldom done anything good, even those actions being for his own benefit, but she trusted him. Belle sincerely believed he’d not hurt her, abuse her or force her to do anything. He thought he should warn her against trusting him, for it was a mistake that could cost her greatly.

“Then the deal is struck.” He said simply instead, proud that his voice didn’t crack with emotion. “We should seal it with a kiss,” he prompted.

“You’ve just made it up,” Belle wrinkled her nose.

“Maybe I did,” Rumpelstiltskin confessed, chuckling.

She made a theatrical sigh and tilted her face back, her lips moist and parted expectantly. Her breath was sweet and her lips deliciously soft and Rumpelstiltskin wondered if he was getting addicted to those kisses. She was so responsive to his caresses, eager to learn the joys her body could bring her and always caring for his pleasure in turn. And the reason he wanted her wasn’t entirely for sex – he enjoyed spending time with her, hearing her sweet voice and delicate laughter or merely looking at her.

He already knew she was too good for him.

He would never be able to give her up and release her from his greedy hands, not in a year, not ever.


	13. True Colors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some violence in this chapter. Rumple turns nasty. Nothing too graphic, in my opinion, but consider yourself warned.

After Belle fell asleep, Rumpelstiltskin began thinking about their escape. The wooden bars were made of aspen, a tree often believed to give protection against evil forces. While in most cases it was merely superstition, this particular aspen must have been centuries old, for it vibrated with primal magic. There were several spells woven into the wood too. The cage didn’t restrain his magic, apparently, but he could not damage, bend or transform the bars. In fact, anything he tried to do to them proved fruitless. They had to be opened from outside by someone else.

Opening Belle’s cell door was easier – he’d seen the guards carrying the key. All he needed was to lure them close enough to grasp it or summon it with a spell. In the end, the task proved to be even simpler than he expected.

Belle stirred in her sleep, turning onto her back. It was almost time for their morning meal and Rumpelstiltskin decided today would be the day to act. There was no need to wait, he wanted to move on. Suddenly it all became clear, he knew exactly what he had to do.

“Hey,” he called out to Belle softly. She opened her eyes, still dreamy from sleep and smiled at him. She always smiled at him like that – gentle instead of mocking, as if she was really happy to see him. Such a strange creature that girl was.

“Did you tell them what they wanted to know? Tell them who hired you to assassinate Snow White?”

Belle’s smile faded at that and she shook her head in a silent no. That was exactly the answer he wanted to hear.

When the prison duty boy brought them the portion of slop no one would dare to call food and pushed the tray closer to the cell, Rumpelstiltskin slowly moved to the front of his cell. He was careful not to startle the guy and pressed his face between the bars.

“Boy, sweet boy,” he cooed, “Would you do me a favor?”

Judging by the look on the boy’s face, he’d much rather run away from the Dark One and never return than do him any kind of favor. Rumpelstiltskin decided the fellow needed a little incentive. He made a gold coin appear in his hand, stretching his palm out towards the boy, rolling the coin over in his fingers and making it walk along his knuckles. The gold glittered, reflecting the light of the torch and the lad’s eyes were fixed on it. He seemed mesmerized by it and moved slightly closer to the cell to hear the sorcerer out.

“That’s better,” Rumpelstiltskin went on. “You can have it if you call the guard for me. Tell him I’ve got something important to say to him.”

The boy nodded, indicating he understood. Rumpelstiltskin flicked the coin up with his thumb, sending it flying towards the boy, who caught it in mid-air. The lad bit down on it, trying to verify whether the gold was genuine. Rumpelstiltskin smirked, the boy had probably never held any gold in his hands before, besides, if he wanted to fool him, testing the metal with teeth would prove as useful as tits on a bull. But he seemed satisfied with how the coin tasted and hopped away without saying a word.

Belle watched the scene quietly. She didn’t ask any questions or try to interfere, for which he was grateful. A few moments later Rumpelstiltskin heard heavier steps approaching their cell. Even from a distance he could see the heavy key ring at the man’s side. Luck was apparently on his side today.

When the guard stepped into the circle of lights thrown by the torch on the wall, Rumpelstiltskin narrowed his eyes. It was the same bearded man who brought unconscious Belle back. Rumpelstiltskin gritted his teeth, feeling bile and anger rise up his throat.

“What do you want, imp?” the guard said roughly, stopping several meters away from the cells.

“The little bird here confessed who her _employer_ was,” Rumpelstiltskin said with fake amusement, his unquenchable rage growing stronger each second.

“So?” The guard barked. He was big but his nature clearly did not give him enough brains to process even that little of information.

“ _So_ ,” Rumpelstiltskin snarled, “I thought you could take the name to Prince Charming and collect the reward.”

“Well, what is it?”

“It’s a secret,” the Dark One giggled. “Come closer, I’ll whisper it to you. We don’t want anyone to overhear and outgo you, do we?”

The simpleton did just that, following his beckoning finger and stepping closer to lean over to the bars. The moment the guard was within his reach, Rumpelstiltskin’s hand darted out with lightning speed, seizing the man by his throat and lifting him up effortlessly despite his victim being a head taller than the sorcerer and likely twice his weight. The guard made a gurgling noise, his body jerking but Rumpelstiltskin’s hand held him tight. Belle shrieked to his left.

“No, no, let go of him!” she shouted, as the man’s body began to convulse from lack of air. He clawed against the hand clasping his throat but there was no chance of him getting free.

“Rumpelstiltskin! No, please!” Belle was crying at that point. “Don’t do it”.

The Dark One did not care. Her voice sounded distant, coming through the noise of blood pounding in his ears. He grinned, bearing his teeth in a beastly snarl. It felt good - being in control, feeling so powerful. He closed his fingers around the guard’s windpipe, the long fingernails piercing the skin and drawing blood. It trickled along the Dark One’s fingers and down the man’s neck, gluing the hairs of his beard together and staining the top of his shirt.

Rumpelstiltskin let his hatred take control, the hot rage running through his veins, filling him with strange, dark glee. He enjoyed causing pain. He liked deciding who was to live and who – to die. This thick-skulled guard made him _worried_. He _hurt_ Belle and he had to pay for it.

The sorcerer held on until the pulse in the man’s heart grew fainter under his fingers and he could no longer feel his heartbeat. Only when the light left the guard’s eyes did Rumpelstiltskin unclench his grip around his neck, letting the guard’s limp body drop to the floor with a sickening thud, the man’s arms and legs bent at odd angles.

He turned to Belle who was sobbing uncontrollably. All his fury was gone, drained out of him as suddenly as it appeared, when Rumpelstiltskin saw the streaks of tears on her face and the red marks from her own fingernails on her cheeks. She was shaking and had her eyes closed.

He bent down, reaching for the key on the guard’s belt and having released it from the ring, threw the thing into her cell. Belle’s eyes flew open when the key landed next to her right foot, but she made no move it pick it up. She could probably barely see with all the tears pooling in her eyes.

“Pick it up and get out of the cell,” Rumpelstiltskin commanded through his gritted teeth. “Then pull that trigger on the wall and we shall get the hell out of here.”

Belle bent down, grabbed the key and tried pushing it into the lock from the front of her cell door. Her hands were shaking so badly it took her several attempts before she succeeded, the lock giving up with a soft click. She pushed the door open and stepped out. She whimpered when her eyes caught the dead body on the floor, sprawled like a quaint puppet and she turned away. Taking a few steps she approached the lever on the wall but she hesitated. Rumpelstiltskin knew what she was thinking. She was shocked and frightened and she wanted to flee, leaving him captured here.

“We made a _deal_ ,” he hissed. “You promised to come with me. Now open - my - cell.”

He was bluffing of course. The deal was more of a show, binding her to nothing. She promised to become his apprentice if he helped her escape, but their contract did not specify the terms or time limits. Technically, if she left him in the dungeon, the deal would still be effective, but Belle did not know it.

She lowered the lever and the bars to his cell opened like an ugly mouth of some beast. Stepping briskly over the discarded body of the guard, Rumpelstiltskin grabbed Belle around her waist, pulling her against him and both of them disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke.


	14. No Illusions

As soon as her head stopped spinning and feeling there was firm ground under her feet, Belle pushed Rumpelstiltskin away, throwing both of her arms out and taking several steps back to increase the distance between them. Her eyes were swollen from tears but she was no longer crying.

“You _killed_ him,” she accused.

Rumpelstiltskin looked at her, his expression blank. Why did she even care? She was free like she wanted but instead of feeling happy, she decided to lecture him.

“After all, maybe you _are_ the monster everyone says,” Belle added angrily, her words burning like acid.

“Pray tell, what on Earth has ever had you thinking otherwise?” He spat, pointing a finger at her. He was irritated to notice there was still some of the guard’s blood on his skin and he shook his hand, making it disappear.

“Didn’t you think I’d turn into your lap dog just because you’re so willing to spread for me?” His words were sharp and cutting as shards of ice.

He may as well have hit her. Rumpelstiltskin immediately regretted saying it. Belle’s face turned pale and the look of betrayal in her eyes was more than he could stomach. She spun on her heels and strode away, not caring where she’d end up as long as it was as far from the man as possible.

“I’m sorry, look, I’m _sorry_. I didn’t mean it like that,” he ran after her, grabbing her wrist and turning her to look into her face.

Belle pulled her hand free of his grasp, wiping it on her breeches as if she touched a slug or his touch was contagious, polluting her skin, before pressing her hand to her chest protectively. This small gesture pained him for some reason.

“You repulse me,” was all she said to his apology.

He was sorry for what he said, but nothing else. The guard’s life meant nothing to him and he didn’t understand why it would be any different to Belle. Clenching his teeth, he seized her upper arm and dragged her upstairs shoving her into the room.

“Rest, change and come down for lunch,” he ordered.

Belle looked at him angrily and offered no reply.

“You _will_ come down for lunch!” Rumpelstiltskin shouted as the door slammed in his face.

Belle fell onto the bed and let her tears run again. She felt so small, helpless and confused. How could the same man who was so kind to her, so heartlessly take someone’s life and pretend like nothing happened? She craved his touch hours ago but now the idea of his hands on her made the girl physically sick. She was in prison only several moments ago, but everything that happened to her seemed distant, as if it was in another world with another Belle. Her life was now split into a before and an after.

Belle had encountered death previously, but violence was something alien to her. Her mind kept going back to the body of the guard, grotesquely spread on the floor with a frozen look of ultimate terror and disbelief on his face. He probably had a family, someone who loved him and looked forward to him returning home every evening. It was too easy to imagine him at a large fireplace with a wife serving him a bowl of hot soup, their children playing nearby. The cozy image was replaced by his dead eyes, unmoving and blank. Belle felt a knot tighten in her stomach and thought she was going to be sick.

Her thoughts switched to the Rumpelstiltskin she knew. He had always been kind to her. At first his words were prickly and biting, but as she learnt to ignore them, he began speaking to her calmly-  the cruel mocking gone from his voice. The man shared his scarce meals with her, healed her and tried to keep her warm. He’d listen to her and do the small things she asked. Did she just choose to forget that the same man was the Dark One who’d been terrorizing the people of the Enchanted Forest?

Back in the cell she had simply known him as the man who cared about her, no matter how reluctant he was to admit it. He showed her another side of himself, something no one could expect to find in the Spinner. Or was it just pretense?

Belle shuddered as she remembered his face contorted by rage. His expression was almost primal, his teeth were bared in a snarl and there was a demonic red glint in his squinted eyes. That picture just did not agree with the man who sighed and held his breath when she touched him, whose kisses were so sweet and tentative.

His hand trembled lightly when he first touched Belle, as if he didn’t believe he was allowed to, as if she had been made of china and had to be treated with the utmost care. She smiled humorlessly. She was right about his hands; they were capable of many things indeed, for there was no hesitance or trembling in them when he choked the life out of another person.

She was so happy when he suggested she should come with him. Belle imagined being his apprentice would be exciting. They’d practice magic together, and maybe talk for hours about it. And when they’d get tired of words, they’d sit in the comfortable silence in one of the castle rooms, or take a stroll around the grounds. There would be laughter, and soft touches and many kisses.

But now Belle regretted it for she did not know what she had asked for. She merely traded one prison for another, the only difference being that this particular prison was more spacious and better-decorated.

She could no longer cry, her eyes burning. Belle felt numb and tired and she did not want to think what kind of year lay ahead for her.

She must have dozed off, for when she opened her eyes her neck ached from the uncomfortable angle. To her shame she felt well-rested. Rising from the bed, Belle walked to the large window and tugged open the heavy velvet drapes. It was hard to tell whether it was dawn or twilight outside. She didn’t know where exactly the Dark Castle was located, but she could make out some misty grey shapes or snow-capped mountains.

Belle returned to the bed and poured some water into the bowl standing on the bedside table. She splashed cool water onto her face and sighed. Rumpelstiltskin ordered her to come downstairs. She wasn’t a bit hungry and did not fancy the idea of meeting him. Belle was sure he would not hurt her or made her do anything by force.

As much as she did not want to, she sighed and thought it would be best to leave her room. She didn’t want Rumpelstiltskin to believe she was afraid of him.


	15. Dinner in the Castle

Belle pushed against the massive oak door of the room, which opened at her touch effortlessly without a creak and stepped into the hall. Half of it was lit by torches while the other half was pitch dark. Taking the light as an indication of her way, Belle turned left and tiptoed, her fingertips brushing along the wooden panel of the walls. She realized she was holding her breath for some reason and exhaled loudly. She was just being silly, she didn’t have to sneak. She had every right to be in the castle, even if she’d rather be miles away from here. Besides, the dark-red carpet on the floor was so thick it muffled all the sounds.

The corridor was wide enough for two carriages to pass side-by-side. There were no pictures or other decorations on the walls, but when she raised her head to look up, Belle noticed some fretwork on the tall ceiling. She soon reached the staircase – the grand marble steps separating the East and the West wing of the castle.

As a kid she used to think her papa’s castle was the biggest and the most beautiful of all. Later, after visiting the King’s palace, she realized her home was modest, but the Dark Castle made them all seem like hideous shacks.

She took a turn right from the stairs and then another one to the left until she walked into a dining-room. It was spacious and elongated with a row of long windows covered by the curtains. The only sources of light were a grand crystal chandelier, the reflected candlelight of it sending colorful sparkles dancing on the marble floor, and a roaring fireplace. It was another thing Belle noted – as immense as the castle was the air in it felt warm. She half-expected to find it dark and covered with cob-webs, with cold wind howling in the secluded hallways.

Rumpelstiltskin stood up to greet her and moved behind Belle to push her chair for her, his manners impeccable. Not quite understanding why he chose to play the gentleman, the girl murmured her thanks. He’d changed his clothes, she saw, his shirt a light green that went surprisingly well with his odd skin color. Tall dark boots and vest, decorated with golden clasps and embroidery, were made of the same black leather and accentuated his slim form. She almost wished she could see better the ornaments and run her fingers along the clothing to feel its softness.

He looked strikingly elegant and handsome, even if not in a conventional way. Belle had to remind herself it was a murderer she was admiring. She felt disgusted with herself for still finding him attractive, for longing to touch him, even after what he had done. She closed her eyes for a few brief moments, trying to regain her composure, hoping the man could read none of the thoughts on her face.

Diverting her glance to the table, Belle saw that it was laid for a feast. Her mouth watered at the sight of roast, lamb chops, baked potatoes and various desserts. There was wine and mead, as well as non-alcoholic beverages. Some of the dishes she could not even name, the food looked too strange and exotic. It was hardly possible to get much fresh fruit at this time of the year, considering they were up in the mountains and the girl wondered where all of it came from. Why would he even bother to summon so much provision with magic? There was no way both of them could eat all of it even in a week.

Reminding herself that she had to hold back or she would be sick after nearly starving in the dungeon, Belle reached for a basket with bread. She chose a round bun, sprinkled with sesame seeds on top. It was still as warm as if it just come out of the oven and was deliciously crispy as Belle tore a piece off and lifted the bread to her mouth. The crumb was whiter and softer compared to the usual whole wheat buns she used to have at home.

Rumpelstiltskin watched her closely and she made sure to chew thoroughly before swallowing. Only seeing that she did eat, he picked up a pot and poured himself some herbal tea before adding a full teaspoon of honey to it. His movements were gracious and unhurried; apparently it was a task he had performed thousands of times before. He didn’t stir the honey in his tea, but rotated his index finger absent-mindedly, his eyes still fixed on her, and the spoon soundlessly moved around in the cup, obeying his silent command.

After Belle finished the bun, she decided she could stomach something else light, like soup. She was used to servants caring for her needs at the table, but the castle had none. Picking up the ladle she poured the hot liquid into a bowl clumsily, several drops landing on the table. Rumpelstiltskin made no comment and sipped his tea.

The room was awfully quiet, the silence broken only by the crackling sound of the logs in the fireplace and Belle’s spoon scraping against the rims of the bowl. It was a bit unnerving but Belle wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say something or if she even wanted to. The man, instead, seemed to be content with this quietness or became merely accustomed to it. Belle flinched when he finally spoke.

“I’m afraid I have to leave you, dearie. Some business to attend to,” his tone was even and emotionless. Despite the fact that he was sitting across the long table and didn’t raise his voice a bit, his words sounded very clear in the large room. “Feel free to walk around the castle but do not touch anything in my tower. Some things there do tend to bite,” he quipped, the corner of his lip quirking up.

“Should you require anything, just name it and the castle will provide it. I’d not recommend trying to walk out, though, for the consequences may be… unpleasant,” he paused making sure she understood. Judging from his dark tone, containing a not quite hidden threat, unpleasant probably meant a few broken bones or far worse. “I will return tomorrow night. In case there is some emergency, or you _miss_ me terribly,” he gave her a small smirk this time, “call my name.”

Belle simply nodded. She strangely felt nothing at the prospect of being left alone. Where she thought there should be relief dwelt only emptiness.

Rumpelstiltskin patted his lips with a napkin and rose. He put on his high-collared stiff leather coat and giving her a deep bow strode away from the room not looking back.

She was all alone.

The luxury of being by herself was not something Belle was familiar with. It seemed that she had always been surrounded by servants, her papa and her laughing girlfriends. Even when she chose to read in the library, there was an unobtrusive feeling of being watched by one of her maids. But here, in the castle, she was too aware even of the sound of her own breathing. It did not frighten her though. It could be quite an adventure.


	16. Loneliness

Belle finished her meal quietly, feeling warmer and fuller than she’d been for weeks. She looked down at the table, wondering if she had to clean it. Rumpelstiltskin told her she’d not have any needs, surely there was more food in the castle, but she yet had to find the kitchen. Getting onto her feet, Belle decided to leave the dining table as it was.

When she stepped over the threshold, she saw the row of torches lighting her way back to the room – _her_ room now, she had to remind herself. She didn’t really care where she stayed, after all, she could choose any chamber she wished. She didn’t want to go back upstairs, so instead of following the brightly-lit hallway, she turned right.

She just considered returning to the dining room to search for a candle or a lantern, when the torches in the dark part of the corridor ignited themselves. Belle decided it was a sign that the castle was assisting her and that she could truly go anywhere she wanted. As long as it pleased the castle’s master, she thought darkly. That would probably change rapidly if she tried to leave, the castle becoming less friendly and cooperative.

After she passed several doors, curiosity took over her and Belle pushed the nearest door. It was made of wood and painted beige with beautifully carved golden flowers twining around the frame. To her disappointment, it was merely a door to the cupboard, revealing the most ordinary-looking brooms and mops. Why would Rumpelstiltskin would need those was a total mystery. Apparently the castle could clean itself, or at least the man could will his magic to do the task. She wondered whether he built the castle himself – it was grand and impressive, of course, but entirely impractical to live in.

Belle tried her luck with the next door. This one also opened with very little effort from her side and the girl stepped in a large oval room. There was a gobelin draped across the entire length of the chamber. Coming closer to the wall she saw it was, in fact, a map. There were castles and small houses embroidered on it and even some trees and cattle. Each of the objects was followed by a fine inscription, the print elegantly decorated with curlicues, but Belle was frustrated to see that it was in another language.

She thought she found the Dark Castle – a proud and imposing structure with several protruding towers in the nest of snowy mountains. She couldn’t spot her father’s county though – there were way too many details on the map, distracting her eyes. Besides, she didn’t even know in which direction to look. She could ask Rumpelstiltskin of course - if she caught him in good spirits. Or if she ever wanted to talk the man again.

Belle felt ashamed but the thought of the murder had lost its terrifying grip on her. It made her feel deeply sad instead. What happened to Rumpelstiltskin to make him stone-hearted and calloused? She could not believe he was born that way and she could not hate him.

The problem was that he _was_ different under the armor of his leather clothing and sharp words, or he could be when he chose to. A cold-blooded murderer would never look at her with such a concern in his eyes, no more than he would prepare a feast for dinner just for her.

Could it be the magic that changed him? Belle had never heard of any witch or warlock who was naturally attractive, unless they applied glamour to trick people. Perhaps, it was just a coincidence or people liked to think those who scared or harmed them were ugly. Would she change once she tried casting a spell? Belle didn’t feel like she would, but perhaps her skin would turn some flamboyant color and grow scaly. Suddenly she imagined herself sitting on a large rock covered with hot-pink scales, basking in the sun like a bizarre lizard. She shook the thought away. Belle wasn’t even sure if she could practice magic. She’d never displayed any talent in that area and if will was all it required, everybody would simply snap their fingers, sit back, relax and watch their problems solve themselves.

The girl was startled by a clock striking once. Oddly enough she did not remember seeing any clock on her way yet it sounded like it was just behind her in the room. Belle wondered if the castle conveyed the sounds well when it chose to or if it was its way of reminding her it was time to rest. She wouldn’t be too surprised if the latter were the truth.

She returned to the room and unlaced her boots, then peeled off her clothes, sighing happily as her legs were finally freed from her breeches. Leather pants may be practical for horse riding or as protection against scratches and small cuts in the woods but wearing them over bare skin for several weeks was definitely not the most comfortable thing. Belle just left her clothes in a small pile on the floor and reached for the cloth she spotted in the drawers of the bedside table earlier. Dipping it in water, the girl wiped her body with it. She was too tired to search for a proper bathroom, but the cloth did make her feel somewhat better and cleaner.

Her slightly damp skin broke into goose flesh, even though the air in the room was decently warm. Belle opened the wardrobe more out of curiosity than actually expecting to find anything there. However she saw it was full of clothes – dresses and nightgowns, horse-riding costumes and various shirts. She bet all of those were her exact size. Belle marveled if Rumpelstiltskin and a habit of stealing girls – that would explain why there was such a variety of clothing. Maybe there were other rooms in the castle, just like that one, but with wardrobes containing dresses fit for women of different sizes and heights for the sorcerer to choose the appropriate room for a new captive.

She dismissed the silly thought quickly. She must be too tired to have such ideas pop into her head. Not bothering with the nightgown, Belle slipped under the sheets. They were fresh and felt cool against her skin. She buried her face in the pillow and inhaled the frosty smell of it. Earlier she did not pay attention to how soft the mattress was – it felt as if she was floating on a cloud. The bed was rather large as well – Belle spread her arms and legs but still did not reach its edges.

Her eyelids were heavy and she could feel her mind slipping off into a half-dream state. Her last thought was the light blue of the bed sheets, even though it was the exact shade of the sheets she had back at home, did not match the heavy red window curtains.


	17. The Library

The following day Belle decided she would explore the floors upstairs. She climbed down the bed reluctantly and pulled the curtains open, letting the sunlight spill into the room. Her window wasn’t made of just plain glass, but instead there was an abstract vitrage decorating the top part. The sun’s rays, coming through the dyed patches of glass, threw different multi-colored shapes on the carpet and Belle admired them for a while.

Deciding she should be decent and clothe herself, she opened the wardrobe with a sigh. She did not want to put on her leather outfit, so she chose a long blue cotton dress. There were no corsets, besides it would be difficult to lace one up herself, but the gown’s bodice was quite firm and provided enough support - not that she needed it, truly. Unfortunately, the dress had short sleeves, but she could always wrap a shawl around herself or put one of her shirts on top in case she got cold. She frowned noticing that there were no shoes. So she just put her knee-high boots on and sat down patiently to lace them up. They must have looked awkward with her dress but there were no mirrors for her to confirm this suspicion. Besides, she didn’t care much. There was no one to see her and the dress went all the way to the floor, covering her crude footwear.

Belle washed her face and brushed her hair thoroughly, letting it fall down to her back in a cascade of tight curls. She decided to grab a bite first before she explored the castle some more. She went back to the dining room, noticing that the food was still on the table, steam rising off it just like the night before. Even the teapot was scalding hot to the touch. Belle wondered what spell kept the food preserved and how could it work if the sorcerer was so far away.

She took a cup of tea and moved closer to the fireplace, gazing at the dancing flames. The comforts of the castle were certainly addicting. Finishing her small breakfast with a fresh peach, Belle wiped her hand, sticky from the fruit juice, on a napkin and headed back upstairs.

The first few rooms she came across were of no interest to her – they were exquisitely decorated, as the rest of the castle, and she spotted few oddly-looking objects but none drew her attention for too long. The room placed to the left of the stone stairs, undoubtedly leading to a tower, turned out to be a storage room for potion ingredients. Belle looked at strange swirling substances captured in jars behind thick glass. Some were quite repulsive – like slimy dead frogs stacked one on top of another. Others were oddly shaped and impossible to identify. There were heaps of herbs, some lying on the shelves, others hanging from the ceiling. The room smelled strange but Belle felt excited, like she could uncover some mystery just by touching the potion ingredients.

She did not want to go into Rumpelstiltskin’s tower – she was sure that’s where the stone steps led, why else would there be ingredients kept in this room? Belle went to the East part of the castle. She thought the storage would be the most interesting find for the day but she was wrong. When Belle pulled on the curved handles of the double doors she gasped. The room held the biggest collection of books she had ever dreamt of. There were small books and large ones, series of volumes and thin brochures, books in bright covers, screaming for attention like exotic birds as well as some modest-looking grey ones.

At first she just ran her fingers across their backs, then she began taking the volumes out, flipping through the pages, inhaling the smell of parchment and enjoying the feel of leather covers. There were books with beautiful pictures, some in small neat writing and foreign languages.

Belle picked up a volume of adventure stories - еhose had always been her favorite to read - and sat down at the cushioned window ledge. Outside, the snow began to fall, soft fluffy pieces swirling in the air. She was so engrossed in her book she didn’t notice how much time had flown by. It was already dark when the strain in her neck and shoulders reminded her that it was time to take a break, but she couldn’t put the book aside. She returned to the dining room, the book still in hand and wolfed down some pork chops.

She climbed the stairs back to the room with her eyes glued to the pages. Belle settled down on the bed on her stomach, her legs up and crossed at her ankles. Eventually the lines began to blur and jump, even though she followed them with her fingers.

Belle barely had the energy to take her boots and dress off before pulling the covers around her. She was content and peaceful and it never crossed her mind that Rumpelstiltskin should have already come back by now.

***

The following morning Belle decided to look for the bathroom. The discovery of the library had distracted her and made her forget about everything. But she was definitely in need of a proper wash now, the damp cloth she wiped herself with being a poor substitute for an actual bath.

She remembered that it was her third day in the castle and wondered if Rumpelstiltskin had returned. He would probably make his presence known to her, but perhaps he arrived late and did not want to disturb her.

Belle dressed and fixed her hair. Descending the stairs she noted that the castle remained still and quiet and felt a slight nagging of worry which only grew stronger as she saw that food and utensils in the dining room remained exactly the way she had left them. Belle broke her fast in the silence which was no longer comforting. She ate quickly and left.

She went to the front doors, chased by the echo of her footsteps on the marble floor. Rumpelstiltskin did warn her against attempting to leave, but what if something bad had happened? Belle was sure he was the most powerful and feared man in the realm but that did not make him invulnerable. What would become of her if he never returned? Would she be imprisoned in the castle forever or would his magic vanish and she’d be free? She hesitated for a few moments but decided not to try her luck by opening the doors.

Belle did walk to the window though and took a peek outside. The snow had stopped but the thick white mantle of it from the castle entrance to the gates and further had not been broken by a trail of footprints. That meant nothing, of course, as Rumpelstiltskin didn’t need to travel on foot if he could simply vanish and re-appear at any place as he wished. Yet the girl stood at the window for several minutes, straining her eyes in hopes of seeing a dark silhouette approaching the castle amidst the sea of radiant white.

She sighed when the landscape remained still and motionless, except for a bird flying by. Belle could call Rumpelstiltskin’s name after all, but how would she explain that to him? Admit she was worried about him being late? What if something really important was keeping him away and she’d distract him from that?

Belle wasn’t quite certain why she wanted the man to come back, but the deafening silence had now become unnerving and no longer as inviting. Perhaps being alone was not as adventurous and exciting as she had first thought. Merely knowing Rumpelstiltskin was in the castle would make her feel safer, even if it meant that she’d have to face him.

She returned to search for the bathroom and found it rather quickly – it turned out to be a spacious room on the first floor, being the second door she had tried. Belle wondered whether it was sheer luck or if the rooms in the castle could shift depending on the needs of  its inhabitants - after all, there wasn’t much logic in how the chambers were located.

There were no mirrors in the bathroom. Belle was curious if there were any in the castle at all. In the center of the room on clawed lion feet stood a large copper tub, bigger than she imagined and resembling a modest pool rather than a bathtub. There was also a small table to its right with neat rows of glass vials – fragrances and scented salts, she guessed – bars of soap and a stack of fluffy white towels. When she took her bath at home, it was a rather complicated process of heating up metal pots and buckets of water to fill in the dolly-tub. However there were no buckets she could use for that and Belle wasn’t sure she was strong enough for the task.

Rumpelstiltskin said the castle could provide any of her needs, but what should she do to make it work? Just ask? Feeling rather silly to be talking to an inanimate object – the idea of a castle having a conscience too unnerving – Belle cleared her throat and asked for the tub to be filled in. Her voice came out weak and unsure after not speaking for over a day; nevertheless the tub immediately filled up with water at her request.

She tested the water with her fingers and pulled her hand away quickly, almost burning herself. Apparently, she had to be more specific in her commands, for the castle made the water boiling hot. It took her several attempts to get the temperature right and she felt slightly proud when she finally succeeded.

Belle uncorked a few vials of fragrant bath perfumes, picked the aroma she liked, shook a few drops of rose-scented fluid into the water and climbed into the tub. It was so big her toes did not reach the far end of it.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to put all the worries out of her head and enjoy the feel of  the warm water enveloping her body and relaxing her muscles.


	18. Bath Incident

Rumpelstiltskin wanted to return to the castle, yet he dreaded it. In truth, there was no reason for him to delay his arrival – the deal he fulfilled was rather simple. He frowned remembering it; he was asked to heal a little boy of not more than 6 years old. He did not want to appear soft-hearted but he felt a pang of pity when he saw the dark-haired boy, flushed with fever and it reminded him of his own son he had and lost. Rumpelstiltskin did not get much out of that deal, just small treasures the family was reluctant to part with – he did have a reputation to maintain – but not having any true value to anyone but them.

The cause for him taking a room at an inn and spending half of the night drinking was the girl. He longed to see her, Rumpelstiltskin did feel Belle’s absence rather sharply, more than he should and more than he would admit even to himself. But at the same time he couldn’t bring himself to face her. Ironic how decades of solitude did not prevent him from growing attached so quickly.

The mighty Rumpelstiltskin did not know how to behave in the presence of a young girl. It was a bad idea to take her into the castle, and speaking roughly to her was an even a worse one. He enjoyed their intimacy but twisting their desire with words, making it into something low and carnal and throwing that at her face was a mistake he couldn’t bring himself to forgive. The pained look in her eyes when he suggested she wanted to fuck him in order to manipulate him later made him scowl.

Guilt was the reason why Rumpelstiltskin acted as a coward, hiding at the inn instead of returning under the roof of his home. She said he repulsed her; it wasn’t something he had never heard before. Normally he would just dismiss the thought; he didn’t care much about how people felt about him, but with Belle it mattered.

He told himself the sooner he’d do it, the sooner it’d be over. Lifting the flask to his lips for a swig and discovering it was empty, he tossed the useless thing into the fireplace, annoyed. He was disgustingly sober and not feeling a bit prepared to meet the girl. He rose and spun on the heels of his shoes, leaving the inn in the puff of smoke.

Rumpelstiltskin re-appeared at the gates of his castle and walked to the front doors through the knee-deep snow. The lobby greeted him with silence. He checked the dining room, the kitchen and even the library – while some of the rooms had traces of her presence, the girl was nowhere to be seen. He went up the stairs, knocking on the door of her room before pushing it open. Empty. Rumpelstiltskin could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Tired of unintentionally playing hide-and-seek he released his magic trying to locate her; the castle would have otherwise been too large for him to search otherwise, and he’d have ended up spending the whole day looking for the girl.

The magic found her in the bathroom downstairs. Relieved, Rumpelstiltskin climbed the steps to his laboratory. He dropped the coat onto the chair and scanned the room; things were just the way he had left them. At least she could follow simple commands. He winced at the thought that the girl should be treated as a dog – obedient to his every command. That was exactly why nothing good ever happened to him - ever since he had acquired his magic, he considered himself superior. While it could be true in most cases, he felt like he needed to change his attitude with Belle and recognize her as his equal. Perhaps if they started their magic training, things could go back to how they were in the dungeon. If he could interest her, it would take the girl’s mind off his words and maybe – just maybe – she would let him to be close to her without ever wincing at his touch. Rumpelstiltskin had no illusions about ever caressing her again; he repulsed her, she did admit so herself. Besides, being in the castle was different, it breathed with him magic and she could no longer pretend he was someone else.

He toyed with the idea of preparing a potion; that usually calmed him. But in his current state of mind it would turn out disastrous. Rumpelstiltskin felt too distracted to make even the simplest concoction. He paced around his lab instead. What was taking her so long? He was no expert to judge how much time women took in the bathroom, but he’d been back for over an hour and the girl was still there. His anxiety grew. He would just check if she was okay, surely there was little harm in enquiring.

Rumpelstiltskin could move silently when he chose to, but this time he made sure his steps echoed in the corridor as he approached the door to the bathroom. He knocked timidly but there was no answer. His knuckles hit the wood harder, but Belle did not respond that time either.

“Belle, are you there?”

Silence. Yet his magic indicated that the girl was inside.

“I’m coming in to check if you’re alright.” He could not quite keep the worry out of his voice and pushed the door, walking in briskly and swiping his eyes across the room. He stopped, reaching the tub and his heart dropped. Belle was under water on the bottom of the tub, her eyes closed and her hair floating around her face in a ghostly manner.

Without a second thought Rumpelstiltskin reached into the tub, gripping her upper arms with both hands and pulling her over the surface. Her eyes immediately snapped open, but he still shook her, relieved and angry at the same time and her head rolled around her shoulders.

“Has your good sense completely abandoned you?” he demanded quietly, pulling his face so close to hers that he could see the tiny placement of freckles around her nose bridge and his own reflection in her wide eyes. The wet silk of his shirt clung to his arms unpleasantly and he still hadn’t released his grip on the girl. She looked at him puzzled and with her mouth slightly ajar.

“I was just rinsing off my hair and…” her voice trailed off. Suddenly, the pieces clicked together and he could almost register the moment of realization in her eyes. “You… you thought I was trying to _drown_ myself?”

When she said that out loud, Rumpelstiltskin felt how silly he was behaving; however Belle didn’t share the same opinion.

“How dare you!” she almost shrieked, slapping his hands and he instinctively let go of her. Belle’s arms dropped back into the tub, sending a fountain of splashes that hit his face and chest. He could have laughed at that moment, she was fine and the situation was getting more and more awkward with each second so Rumpelstiltskin bit his cheek to prevent himself from giggling or making a snippy remark.

Belle’s gaze traveled to the top of his shirt, watching the dark trails on the fabric from where she had splattered him. It reminded her of her own nakedness and she felt the blush creep down her neck and shoulders. She crossed her arms in front of her and raised her knees up protectively, trying to cover as much skin as possible.

“Get out! Out!” her voice was both panicked and pleading.

Cursing himself for his own stupidity and trying not to look down, Rumpelstiltskin turned his back to her and cleared his throat.

“I…” Should he apologize? “I want you to join me for lunch and then we shall have our lesson.” He hesitated. It sounded like another command even though he never intended it to. “…Please?” he felt a little proud that his voice did not waver.

He did not wait for her response and practically ran out of the room. His face felt hot with embarrassment; never had he felt so stupid. He was the Dark One for fuck’s sake, but she made him feel like a teenager. Had he lost his mind to just storm into the bathroom, driven by his lunatic suspicions?

As he heard her wet feet touch the floor, he wished he could go down the drain with the bath water. At least then he’d not have to ever look into her accusing eyes again.


	19. A Lesson in Magic

Belle entered the dining room a quarter of an hour later to find that the previous choice of dishes was replaced by a selection of croissants and tea. It made sense since it was still too early for lunch, besides she did not feel particularly hungry. The girl picked clothes that were both comfortable and as unrevealing as possible. She had on a white loose cotton blouse which came up to her neck and displayed no cleavage, and grey woolen pants. Neither her shirt with the foamy lace down the front nor the breeches showed off any of her curves, but seeing Belle fully dressed only reminded him of her nakedness not so long ago.

He moved behind her to push the chair, his fingers lingering on its back a moment longer than they should have. She was so close he could smell the rosy scent of her skin. Belle’s hair was still damp and looked darker than usual, although it had already began to curl up at the tips. Despite her trying to towel it up the best she could, the wet strands left marks on the fabric of the blouse. Rumpelstiltskin swallowed noisily when he noticed that the shirt turned almost transparent where the moisture hit it. He darted back to his seat for he was sure that another second of being so close to the girl would make him lose his mind entirely.

Belle ate quietly, oblivious to the effect she had on the man. Rumpelstiltskin, however, did not touch the food for it would make him divert his gaze from her. She looked up, reaching for the tea pot and caught him staring. Her eyes went back to her plate immediately, but her cheeks flushed and she put the pot back on the table with more force than necessary. Her blush triggered more memories in him. Before, Rumpelstiltskin was too worried and concerned about her harming herself to pay attention to her nakedness. But now his mind seemed all too eager to provide the images of her in the tub, her wet hair plastered to her shoulders as the color spread from her cheeks down her elegant neck, almost but not quite reaching down the soft curve of her small breasts.

He groaned internally, trying to put that image out of his head. He was already semi-hard just remembering her pale skin, the light-pink nipples contrasting with her dark hair which only set off her creamy composure. Mentally he could see the sheer droplets of water trickling down her chest and… and he had to stop before he overexcited himself.

Rumpelstiltskin told himself to quit staring and to act normal. He ignored the need to adjust his cock under the table and poured himself a cup of chamomile tea, his mouth dry. Alas, the herb failed to calm his nerves. What the heck was wrong with him? It was not like he hadn’t seen a naked female body before, but Belle’s effect on him was unexplainably strong. He desired her more than anything, and even though he did touch her in prison, it only seemed to fuel his thirst for her.

Gods, he had to consider the consequence before taking her into his castle. He was both aroused and ashamed of those feelings. He had always been proud of his self-control and ability to calculate his actions, but the girl reduced him to a single-minded lascivious creature in a matter of weeks. He shifted in his seat, his cock still hard and throbbing uncomfortably in his leather breaches. Belle was almost finished with her meal and he could not stand up from the table in that condition.

Rumpelstiltskin muttered a spell, sighing with relief and disappointment as his erection deflated with the whisper of magic. He would probably have to constantly cast that enchantment or wear his leather coats indoors, neither of which seemed a pleasant alternative.

“Are you ready, dearie?” he asked when Belle emptied her cup and set it on the saucer.

The girl nodded and he motioned for her to follow him. Rumpelstiltskin let her pass through the doors first and she walked at his sides, making several springy steps to keep up with his confident long strides. Belle tripped on the stairs and he steadied her by her elbow, but he let go off her immediately when she mumbled her thanks.

She shivered upon entering the tower; the air in his laboratory must have been cold but he never paid attention to such things after becoming the Dark One. He closed the window and ignited a fire in the mantelpiece, offering her to take a seat at the table. He opted to walk around the room instead as he tried to find the right words to share some of his knowledge with her.

“As you may know, dearie, the magic is all around us,” Rumpelstiltskin began and was pleased to note how Belle listened to him. She was carefully absorbing his words and he was flattered to be the center of her attention. “This world was created by it and despite the fact that it seems chaotic, everything is regulated and balanced by magic. It is a matter of whether people can sense it or not.”

“The magic in its essence is neutral; it is neither good nor bad as it’s got no mind of its own. It is what you make of it. Fairies and demons draw their powers from the same source. However, a witch, a warlock. a wizard or an enchantress - the name does not matter - the _conductor_ has to be strong and confident to bend the powers to his or her own will.” He paused and his dark eyes swiped over her figure as if trying to appraise whether the girl was fit for the task. “Otherwise, the magic will consume those who are weak and destroy them. Consider it a mare with volatile temper that may let you ride her but kick you off her back when you least expect it.”

“There are thousands of curses and incantations, for most people believe that it’s the words that guide the power. This is not true. The most potent are the basic elements that require no enunciation.” Belle nodded at those words, more to herself than to him, but made no attempt to interrupt the man.

“By basic elements I mean water, fire, earth and air, of course. Such a division is only relative, for water runs on earth and under it; there is water in the air and air in the fire. You may find in the books that some practitioners distinguish wood as a separate component, but magic trees are mostly gone now. While it is important to master all of those elements, the majority of conductors tend to be more skilled and receptive to just one of them. Which brings us down to this.” Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers, making a tall glass of water appear in front of the girl. She looked at it wide-eyed and he almost smiled. She’d been living in the enchanted castle for several days now but some simple display of magic as summoning of an object did not fail to amaze her nevertheless.

“I want you to transfigure it. Make it boil, evaporate it or freeze the water. Just remember that nothing can be born of or disappear into nowhere. You have to balance it. The power is all around you, so try to embrace and use it. I cannot help you with it; you have to discover your own way of doing things.”

The last part was not entirely true. He could prompt her to use emotions, to fuel her inner energy with anger and intertwine it with the forces surrounding her. It worked with Regina and Cora but it felt wrong with Belle. He wanted to try a different approach; the girl was too sweet and innocent, her nature gentle and forgiving. Rumpelstiltskin doubted whether she had actually truly felt anger, the kind that was blinding and over-consuming. Most likely her least happy memories were connected with the death of her mother. And him.

He opened one of the volumes, picking up at the place he left off. For the next couple hours he read, while Belle frowned at the glass until her hair had dried up and she’d shake her head from time to time to get it out of her eyes. She tried staring at the glass, waving her hands over it or even whispering to the water, but the fluid remained just as it was. Rumpelstiltskin did not underestimate the girl’s stubbornness. The look of determination on her face was proof enough of that. She would eventually make it work, given enough time. 


	20. Potions

In the following couple days Belle’s frustration became almost palpable. She did not give up, never that, yet no matter how hard she tried, the water refused to cooperate. Normally it was considered one of the easiest elements to master – water was changeable and volatile, but the sorcerer wasn’t surprised. His power was granted to him by the curse and he never had to learn how to use it; the knowledge was passed to him along with the weight of the memories of those who bore the burden of the Dark One before him. He only had to control the magic, which he often failed to do. It might take Belle weeks or even months before she could alter water but he thought it was best not to let her know that. While her attempts remained unsuccessful, Rumpelstiltskin decided to try something different. Perhaps the girl would have more luck with potion brewing.

They agreed to meet at his tower around three o’clock every day and the girl was never late. Now that she was slightly more comfortable with him – he had not made any advances on her although he looked at her every time she was distracted enough not to notice it – Belle returned to wearing clothes she was more used to. She preferred calm pastel colors and gowns that ended just under her knees. When Rumpelstiltskin saw that she was still wearing her crude dark boots, apparently too shy to ask for new footwear, he replenished her wardrobe with graceful shoes of every color to match her dresses.

She looked beautiful in any garment, whether it covered her from head to toe or bared her shoulders. It was sweet torture to have her so close and not be able to touch her, and even though his flesh was tamed with the spell, his mind was on fire with constant arousal. His insomnia did not help one bit. He would lay awake and think of her. If he closed his eyes, he would picture the girl all too vividly:

Belle frowning over a glass of water.

Belle smiling as if amused by her own thoughts.

Belle cocking her head while she listening to him.

Belle chewing on her pink lips when she hesitated to ask him something.

Belle simply looking at him.

Hundreds of tiny memories that were not truly sexual or arousing, yet somehow they turned into those just because _she_ was in them.

Sometimes he would give in and stroke himself. He could get hard in an instant at a mere image of her face. He preferred to let his mind wander and not to touch himself until his cock was nearly painful, hard and oozing pre-cum. Only then Rumpelstiltskin would wrap his fist around it, pretending it was her hand. Recalling the feel of her soft touches he’d tease himself, his pumping deliberately slow and his grip around the shaft loose. He’d wet his palm and rub it in circles around the head of his cock, pretending it was her skin he was touching. Gradually applying more pressure, he’d buck up into his fist, trying to still his moans when the sensation became too strong. He’d always finish to the memory of kissing Belle, imagining her tongue swirling in his mouth. Only when he could no longer hold back would he cum, spilling his seed all over his hand and stomach with her name on his lips. Those nights made him feel guilty and he would promise himself not to do that again. But he was weak and would just return to pleasuring himself. He felt if he did not satisfy himself somehow, he would lose the remains of his sanity.

Rumpelstiltskin decided that it could not even be Belle’s fault. Luckily, the girl was not aware of those shameful hours he spent dreaming of her. Perhaps, it’d just been too long since he had proper release and his hand was a poor substitute. One night after he was sure Belle was asleep in her room, he hooded himself and left the castle. He went into a brothel. It was a shabby two-storey building, which hosted a bar on the first floor and offered cheap rooms upstairs. It was overcrowded and noisy, girls in just their undershirts (some of them nearly naked) serving drinks, maneuvering between the tables and giggling when they received pinches and smacks on their rears.

Keeping his face hidden in the shadow of the cloak, he ordered a pint of beer and sat alone in the furthest corner, away from the light. The first sip of the beer told him it was a waste of money. Not that alcohol had any effect on him. He brewed his own concoction to get intoxicated, the strong ingredients making it closer to a poison than liquor. Rumpelstiltskin watched the women in this place but he did not feel the smallest sparkle of desire, even though the excitement never seemed to leave his loins when he was at Belle’s side.

The only thing he felt was disgust. He hurried to leave the filthy place, swearing not to ever return there again. The failure at the brothel indicated that things were worse than expected. He did not long for just release; he wanted Belle. The darkness in him whispered he could do it, he could slip an aphrodisiac in the girl’s drink or take her by force. But the remains of humanity in him did not allow anything like it. He may be a coward but he’d sooner cut his own hand off than touch Belle against her will.

It was exactly three o’clock when she stepped over the threshold of his lab, wearing a light blue dress with the bodice flattering her slim waist and the top part leaving her shoulders open to his gaze. Belle’s hair was away from her face, done up in a bun and secured with pins; she often wore it like this during their classes. She gave him a small smile before diverting her eyes to a large brazen cauldron on the floor next to the fireplace. Rumpelstiltskin filled it with water and propped it on a tripod; all of the necessary ingredients were lined up on the edge of the table.

“I thought we should try something different, until you succeed with the water.”

She seemed only too happy to take a break from her battle with the water glass. The potion he picked was quite simple, it did not require any special skills. However, it did involve the precise addition of components and meticulous stirring; otherwise the simple cold cure could turn into rat poison.

He conjured a small fire under the cauldron and Belle added ingredients carefully, but her stirring technique was wrong. Rumpelstiltskin could already see that instead of warm honey color with golden specks the contents of the cauldron were more likely to turn murky brown. The pretty color was one of the reasons he picked this particular potion; the girl could hardly catch a cold by staying indoors.

“No, dearie, you’re doing it wrong. Relax your wrist and do three shallow stirs clockwise and then a slow one counter-clockwise,” he offered but Belle still seemed to get it wrong.

He moved to stand behind her. Rumpelstiltskin adjusted her grip on the handle before covering her hand with his own on the ladle.

“Three stirs this way and one in the opposite direction,” he echoed his own words and carefully guided her hand to show her how she should do it. The correct stirring instantly lightened up the potion and he let go of her hand when Belle seemed to grasp how to do it. Rumpelstiltskin did not move away though, watching her hand move the ladle.

He suddenly realized how close they were standing, his breath ghosting over her neck. He could smell the faint aroma of apple soap on her skin. Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes were drawn to the curve of her neck where he saw the beat of her pulse. Before he could think, his lips covered the spot and he swiped his tongue across it. Belle’s body went rigid under the touch but she tilted her head to the side, exposing more skin to his lips. Rumpelstiltskin let his mouth savor her skin. She was so soft and warm and he nibbled along her neck eagerly, intoxicated by her closeness. He let his mouth lick and suck on her neck.

It was too good but it wasn’t enough. His arm slid around her waist, he winced as his hand met the stiffness of her bodice. He wanted to feel her skin, to press against her, to ravish her, to lick every inch of her. Rumpelstiltskin pulled her body closer, pressing to her from behind, his kisses more urgent. He was hard, he wanted her to feel it and to grind himself on her until he could burst. He wanted to hear her writhe under him, make her moan and spill himself deep inside of her.

His desire was maddening, he needed more touch, more Belle. He closed his teeth, biting down her shoulder, trying to prevent a desperate moan from escaping his lips. The girl gasped and dropped the ladle, which hit the rim of the cauldron with a muffled thud. The sound returned Rumpelstiltskin to his senses. Horrified, he jerked his hands away and Belle ran away from the tower without looking at him.

Stupid, stupid! What was he thinking? The problem was, he wasn’t thinking, not when she was so close to him. Her abrupt escape was like a cold shower, extinguishing his want. He groaned and kicked the chair before hiding his face in his palms.

It was too late to fix things. Rumpelstiltskin let out a shaky breath. Maybe if he acted like nothing happened, she could just forget about it.

The potion was ready. He poured it into three small vials, put a cork in each one and set them on the shelf. He removed the rest of the potion, leaving the cauldron clean and shiny.

Belle did not come down for dinner. It seemed like some punishment since meals and their classes was the only time they saw each other, but he thought it was fair. The poor girl was probably in tears, trying to scrub her skin raw to remove the memories of his touch.

Rumpelstiltskin went to his spinning wheel. He felt as if there was a cold leaden ball in his chest. He had to apologize, but how could he explain what he had done? He wanted it and he would most likely do it again, given the chance. He could not spin, so he just sat there, feeling like his whole life was just a row of wrong choices.

His head jerked up in surprise as the door creaked and the girl stepped in. He opened his mouth to say something but could not say a word, afraid he would just make things worse. He must have looked a complete fool with his mouth open, for Belle smiled at him tentatively. She sat down on the rug, close to the fireplace and opened her book without saying a word, but the silence bore no tension in it.

Rumpelstiltskin suppressed a grin. Perhaps he did not ruin everything he touched. He did not know what it was, but something he did today seemed right.


	21. The Accomplishment

Their days blurred together in a routine, but Rumpelstiltskin could not remember being happier. It was almost spring and he wished the time would just stop, hold still and let him savour those exquisite moments with his Belle. He didn’t exactly remember when he started to call the girl his, but he liked it so he pretended she belonged to him; that those smiles and playful looks from beneath the lashes were for his eyes only. Not because there wasn’t anybody else to smile at, but because she intended them for him.

She became bolder now that they spent more time together. He no longer had to remind her to come down for a meal – more often than not it was Belle who nearly dragged him out of the laboratory for dinner, insisting he was too thin and he could work himself into starvation if he kept skipping meals. He did not get much work done though – not when she was so close. He’d just pretend to be reading a book or he’d choose to brew some simple potion that wasn’t too demanding, which allowed him to look at his girl. By now he had every small feature memorized perfectly. If he didn’t know better, he’d mistake her for a siren or an ancient goddess. She was a plain mortal though but he was still eager to worship her.

Spring meant that there was more light outside. Normally Rumpelstiltskin would shut it out, drape the tall windows with curtains and let the castle drowse in shadows. He was a creature of darkness, after all, and the sunshine had no business peeking from inside. Yet Belle seemed to love it. She’d often watch the bright sky, smiling, or point out how pretty the fresh grass looked amidst the thawing snow. She insisted the windows in the lab had to be open, even if for a little while, to let the fresh air in. He gave up scowling at those remarks and acting as though the girl’s high spirits did not please him. If she wanted sunshine, that’s what she’d get. He could get used to brightness and the smell of swelling tree-buds.

He liked watching her work in the lab, but in truth he looked forward to the evenings. She came to the parlour every night to join him. Rumpelstiltskin would spin while Belle read. Sometimes she’d just watch him at his work quietly, or talk about her childhood, or share her ideas on magic and things she’d like to learn. Other evenings she would read to him, and he’d silence the creak of the spinning wheel in order for her not to strain her voice. When she grew more comfortable with his presence, she’d ask him questions and though he held back at first, he soon found himself speaking freely. He was more sincere than he’d been in years, and once Rumpelstiltskin got carried away enough to mention his son. He snapped his mouth shut immediately, his eyes widening with the horror of realizing what he had confessed. Never had he let anyone see that side of him or get that deep into his secrets. But Belle didn’t press the matter, her own eyes understanding and full of pain for his loss. She patted his knee and somehow it was the greatest comfort he’d ever received.

Belle touched him frequently now. She no longer recoiled or cringed when their fingers brushed accidentally. She’d go as far as leaning against him slightly when he sat in the armchair and she’d take her favourite spot in front of the fireplace. She was more used to his dry humour but would swat him if he made a particularly nasty remark about someone, even if he could see her eyes sparkling with laughter. Her laugher was a thing of wonder by itself – there were so many dimensions to it, from light chuckles to deep throaty sound that could go on for a long time, leaving the girl breathless.

She bid him good night each time like she meant what she said, as if it mattered to her whether he slept well or not. Belle looked him directly in the eyes then, sometimes lingering around for longer as if she expected him to say something else back or to act. Rumpelstiltskin could not quite decipher what it was. He’d wish her sweet dreams back and she’d sigh, leaving the room.

Then Belle made a habit of kissing him on the cheek before retiring to her room. He froze the first time it happened, her lips feather-light on his skin. The girl blushed prettily but did not seem to regret what she did. Rumpelstiltskin wanked himself raw that night. He felt like her lips left a burning mark on him and he’d touch that place with his fingertips as the other hand pulled and squeezed his rigid cock. He was desperate; the urge to cum even after his third orgasm had been as strong and sharp as when he just started. His erection did not subside when he covered his fingers with his seed for the fourth time. It was as if he turned into a randy adolescent. He had to remind himself it was wrong and shameful; that such things as dignity and self-control still existed, but they were just abstract ridiculous notions compared to the fire in his loins something as little as a kiss upon his cheek started.

He kept his face calm and neutral the following night, praying there was no way Belle could ever find out about what happened in his bedroom. He chose to sit away from the fireplace and away from her, but she read to him as if she didn’t notice his reluctance to approach her. When her voice grew sleepy and tired, she got up and pressed another kiss to his cheek, more firm and confident, before walking out. The temptation to turn his head and capture her lips with his was strong, but Rumpelstiltskin resisted. The kiss did not have to mean anything, really. It could just be a friendly gesture or an expression of gratitude she felt. Perhaps that’s what she did back home to her father before going to bed. The idea that Belle associated him with her parent made him wince. He was ages older than her but his feelings had been far from chaste and paternal. He’d much sooner have the girl find him disgusting.

It was another sunny day and Belle sat at the table in his laboratory, making faces at the water glass. Rumpelstiltskin caught himself admiring the way the sun’s rays reflected off her hair, making the curls auburn and shiny. She wore it loose today, even though her hair grew much longer. He wanted to reach out and touch it, to feel the soft texture with his fingers, to caress the strands and push them off her face. He longed to do even more than that, but instead he turned away and began arranging the jars on the shelf. When he frowned holding a bottle with particularly nasty contents and trying to figure out what those were, Belle called out his name, her voice trembling with excitement.

He turned to find her looking over the glass of water wide-eyed. Over the top rim, hanging in the air were tiny spheres of water. It lasted a couple of seconds only and then they fell back into the glass with a faint _bloop_ , but Belle’s face shone with such pride at that small achievement that Rumpelstiltskin could not help it; his own lips curled into a smile while the girl beamed at him.

“Did you see it? Did you see it?!” she exclaimed happily.

“You did it, dearie,” he replied softly. “Congratulations.” In truth, he felt quite proud too. It wasn’t spectacular and there was still a long way to go but that was a good start.

Her joyous laugher still rang in his ears when Belle threw her arms around his neck, apparently unable to contain her mirth, trying to reminding herself it was real by touching his solid body. She finally accomplished it.

Her merriness was contagious and Rumpelstiltskin picked her up on a whim, spinning her around, the skirts of her dress rustling and swirling around them.

“I truly did it,” she whispered, breathless when he put her down on the floor and ducked her head down for a kiss.

It was slow and clumsy at first, Belle trying to recall how to kiss him. He knew what she was doing was dictated by the heat of the moment, her pure success making her share her happiness in any way possible. He let himself enjoy it for a little while before carefully pushing her away.

“Belle, you don’t want do it,” he said gently, as if he was reasoning with a silly child, at the same time capturing her wrists and unhooking her arms from his neck. He knew it was the right thing and he gritted his teeth, trying to keep his body away instead of leaning into her touch.

She looked up at him, her smile gone. Her eyes were clear and held no regret, only determination.

“Be quiet, Rumpelstiltskin,” she said sternly. “No one decides for me, not even you.”

This time she had to stand on her toes to kiss him, pressing herself against him. The kiss was more demanding, her daring tongue invading his mouth and seeking out every sensitive place to make him sigh. He may be the Dark One but he was a man as well, he could never fight her, not when she was offering her lips to him so generously. His hand went into her hair and he moaned, feeling the softness of it. That’s where she belonged, in his arms, sighing and wriggling against him in pleasure; that’s what he’d been dreaming about for so painfully long.

The bliss was interrupted by a pull of magic against his back. Somebody crossed the line of his grounds. Rumpelstiltskin pulled away. Whoever it was, he’d get rid of the fool and come back to Belle, while she wanted him, while he believed it wasn’t some accident.

“Stay here,” he whispered, pulling away. She looked up at him, not quite registering the words. Her lips were moist and parted, a darker shade of pink than usual. He moaned and stole another quick kiss from her.

“There’s someone approaching the castle. I’ll see to it.”

He walked away and as soon as Belle and the sunshine from the tower were behind him, his mood darkened. The intruder had better have an important business to interrupt them.


	22. The Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday which means what? An update :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy the dialogues (as sarcastic and full of bile as I dared to make them) and the general direction the plot's going. Don't feel shy to say whether you hate it or like it.

When Rumpelstiltskin reached the front doors of the castle, he already knew who the visitor was. His suspicions were confirmed as the doors burst open with the breath of his magic. Six magnificent horses, dark as a night itself and decorated with tall colorful plumage pulled a carriage. He was a bit of a show man himself, but Regina took it to another level.

The coach came to a stop, the large wheels rustling on the gravel. The door opened and a graceful foot appeared, clad in the softest-looking black leather of high-heeled boots. Rumpelstiltskin could make out Regina’s blood-red lips even before her features were truly visible. She put her slender arm out, the diamonds on her silk glove capturing the rays, as she waited for the Dark One to assist her.

“Un- _bloody_ -likely, dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin muttered to himself through his gritted teeth.

After a few seconds the woman realized that she’d not get any help but just laughed at it, undisturbed by being so openly ignored. Unlike Belle’s laughter, Regina’s was high-pitched and not truly humorous. It sounded vicious and false.

“Charming, as always,” she teased, narrowing her heavily-lined eyes as she climbed out of the carriage elegantly on her own. She did not wait for an invitation, which was hardly going to happen judging by the absence of any welcome and strode past him, her black cape fluttering behind her like a sail. It was an impressive sight, beyond doubt, but it only made the man even more annoyed.

Doing his best to keep calm or at least seem indifferent, he followed Regina inside the castle.

“You seem more gloomy than usual, Rumple,” she drawled in a sweet sing-song voice, settling at the table and summoning a tea tray, not fooled by his blank expression. He hated how she made herself home even under his heavy glares. “I did not disturb you from something important, did I?”

As a matter of fact, she did interrupt him at the worst moment possible, but he’d sooner swallow his tongue than let the bitch know it. She even batted her eyes at him innocently which did nothing for his mood. Her perfume was too strong, her voice sickeningly sweet and he could already feel a headache starting to throb deep in the back of his head. He wanted to get rid of her and return to Belle. He hoped the girl would stay away and not let herself be seen.

“What do you want, Regina? Name it, hear me say no and get out,” he spat.

“Is that a way to treat a guest, Rumple? No wonder you’ve got so few of them around,” she slowly dropped a cube of sugar into her tea and watched as it dissolved in the amber-colored liquid. Then she became serious, her voice back to ordinary with no hints of sweetness or playfulness remaining.

“You know what I want. Help me defeat Snow White.”

There they go again. Rumple, I need a poisoned apple. Rumple, I need some efficient charm to get Snow out of my way. Really, the woman was too blinded by her hatred to see that Snow, in fact, was no threat to her. The way of trial and error taught her nothing, she was stubborn and persistent to get her vengeance - no matter the price.

“I’ve already told you I was not interested,” he said, scowling. “Is that all you want? In that case, have a good day, you can go cause trouble someplace else.”

Regina leaned over the table, closer to him as if by cutting the distance between them she could somehow deliver her point better.

“I need a curse,” she said slowly, carefully shaping the words with her painted lips. “Something strong and irreversible, something only you could cast.”

“Not interested. There’s nothing for me in it.”

“Oh?” One of her carefully plucked eyebrows went up in silent amusement. “How about your own vengeance? Don’t you want payback for being captured, kept behind bars and fed irregularly like some animal?”

Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t surprised the woman knew about it. If Regina wasn’t so centered about removing Snow from the throne, he’d even suspect she had a hand in his imprisonment.

“Worried about me, weren’t you, dearie?” he spat and pressed a hand above his heart. “So touched, I am truly. You must have spent dozens of nights restless, thinking about me perishing in the dungeon. I could bet you were on a rescue mission just when I managed to escape.” Rumpelstiltskin did not even bother to disguise the mocking in his voice. He knew Charming would probably follow him, if not for his pregnant wife, but he did not require the witche's assistance to deal with the prince.

“Rumple, you have to help me. Look…”

“I absolutely do _not_ have to do anything,” he interrupted Regina before she could finish the sentence. “Now, leave.”

Of course, she did not obey him. She tried pressing her point, searching for the words to convince him to cooperate but Rumpelstiltskin ceased to listen. Unfortunately, he noticed some movement at the entrance of the room. His heart sank. Belle. Damn the girl’s curiosity, why couldn’t she just stay in the lab? He shook his head, indicating she should leave, hoping that she’d go away before she was noticed. False hope, of course. Regina instinctively followed his gaze and looked at the doors. Her lips drew back in another sugary smile (teeth-rotting, if he was to be asked) and gestured to Belle to come closer.

“Hellooo there, little one. Come, let me have a better look at you.” She turned to Rumpelstiltskin while Belle approached them. “Did you get yourself a caretaker, Rumple?”

“She’s my new apprentice,” the man admitted reluctantly.

“A trainee? Well, she looks more like a new pet.” Regina actually snorted at her own words, amused by her wit. “Have you broken into her already?”

Rumpelstiltskin felt like he could hit the former queen. “How dare you…” he growled, surprised that either of them could make out the words. Regina only laughed at it, waving her hand dismissively.

“Silly me, of course you didn’t. Otherwise you’d have already lost interest and discarded the poor thing. I know how you like to play with innocent souls.”

Before Rumpelstiltskin could come up with an appropriate answer or just send all the moral standards – or whatever he had left of those – to hell and hex Regina into next week, Belle approached them and gave the woman a polite curtsy.

“Ah!” This time Regina sounded genuinely surprised when she made out Belle’s features. “My little failure of an assassin. I didn’t realize you picked up my leftovers, Rumple. I’m afraid she’s hopeless. Even the village idiot could stab a sleeping woman with a dagger, besides, I granted her an easy admittance to the castle.” She turned to Belle, who stood there too shocked to offer a reply. “I was true to my words, sweetheart, and did not burn your useless village down. But Snow lives and it means you _still_ owe me a favor.”

Regina rose and straightened her clothing, picking off an invisible speck of dust that wasn’t there.

“I suppose I am done here for today. I have few other calls to make. My regards.” She walked away with the smuggest smile and more dignity than Rumpelstiltskin could imagine. Regina may have not achieved her original goal, but she’d done enough harm with her words and he wished he had never let her in the castle in the first place.


	23. Exile

“Rumpelstiltskin, I…” Belle began, trying to explain herself, to make him understand. The seeds of doubt grew in his soul unbelievably fast, unlike any attempt of making him trust her. Those seeds never even got planted in the ground.

“So that is who your employer is,” he began, squinting his eyes at her. “Well, it all makes sense now.”

Belle wasn’t sure what he meant by this but she knew he’d take the queen’s words to heart and interpret them the worst way possible.

“What else did she bid you to do? Sniff around me, find out my weaknesses? Do whatever it takes to pull the secrets out of me?”

She scowled at that. He could not truly believe what he was saying. Rumpelstiltskin turned away from her, his shoulders slumped. She wished she had a way with words or knew the right thing to say to convince him. But all rational thoughts seemed to avoid her, they lingered on the tip of her tongue but recoiled to the back of her head when she tried to reach them. Belle put her hand on his shoulder, hoping that since words failed her, perhaps her touch could convey what she felt.

“Rumpelstiltskin,” she breathed. His muscles were tense under her fingers and he didn’t turn around.

“You made the deal following her orders,” he concluded. He did not care that it sounded ridiculous, that _he_ was the one to offer the deal. The truth was that he’d always been a coward. It was so much easier to believe that Belle had some secret motive, that she was paid to keep him company than to admit she might feel anything for him. Affection was a weakness, he learnt it the hard way.

“No, no! You misunderstand! It’s never been like that,” the girl tightened her grip on his shoulder.

“Oh do I?” he spoke dangerously, his voice so low he almost hissed, even the vowels sounding snake-like. “You lying, cunning, filthy little…” the man paused, clearly looking for the right words to deliver his resentment over her betrayal.

“Rumpelstiltskin!” Belle exclaimed. She did not want to hear the end of this sentence. She was on the verge of tears. How could it come to this? Less than half an hour ago she made such progress with her magic, she felt delighted and light-headed when he responded to her kiss. Why was he so cold and distant now? She did nothing wrong to deserve those cruel words.

It was that woman. She managed to break their fragile secluded world, piercing it with her poisoned words and making it pop like a soap bubble. She spoke of Belle as a thing, a mere decoration with no mind or will of its own. Yes, Regina did hire her to get rid of Snow White, but the only reason Belle accepted that was because she had no choice. She did not believe she could make it, she’d never harm _anyone_ , let alone Queen Snow White but she did not want her people to suffer in case she refused. When the guards caught her at the Snow’s bed with the knife and threw her in the dungeon, Belle thought that would be the end of her days until Rumpelstiltskin saved her. And now he was standing there, with his back turned to her. He was close enough to touch but at the same time miles away. He shrugged her hand off him.

“Out,” he said quietly.

Belle wished he’d yell at her, break something or just keep accusing her of things she’d never done. His fingers were curling up in fists and unclenching, as if he wanted to grab something and squeeze it till the thing snapped. She stood there, feeling stupid. Surely he did not mean that? He was just overreacting, he needed to calm down and let her explain. Belle did think about the possibility of going back home before, she’d see her family but she didn’t want to leave. Rumpelstiltskin turned around to look at the girl.

“Which word can you not understand?” he said slowly, enunciating every syllable. “The deal is off. You’re free to go. I said _out_.”

“No, wait… I can’t,” she blurted and he cocked his head, studying her. Why wouldn’t he just listen?

He must have misread her intention, for he actually smiled. Somehow this false merriment frightened Belle even more.

“Of course you cannot, dearie. Forgive me being so inconsiderate.” Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers and the girl found herself wrapped in a travel cloak, her belt heavy under the weight of a fat purse. She shifted on her feet and the metal rattled.

“There should be enough gold to pay for all your troubles. You know where the exit is, right, dearie? Pardon me but I do not feel like escorting you out.” His hand was pressed against the small of her back as he firmly pushed her towards the door.

It was terribly wrong. She tripped, stepping on the folds of the long cloak. Bad dream, it was just a bad dream and she’d wake up in her bad, descend the stairs and see the real Rumpelstiltskin who’d smile at her and butter a toast for her and offer her morning tea.

The problem was her brain could never come up with something as bad as this. Belle felt like she was drowning, something that felt freezing cold and slimy bulging in her stomach and reaching its ugly tentacles to grasp her heart. Her hand was on the door handle and she turned, her eyes misty with tears, desperation cutting the air from her lungs.

“Rumpelstiltskin, _please_ , listen to me,” she pleaded and it seemed to be the last straw that broke the camel’s back.

He almost made it back to the head of the table, but turned abruptly to look at her, his eyes wild. He radiated of anger and it pained her to see him so hurt.

“Out!” he shrieked, his voice high-pitched. “I said out! Get out of my sight!”

Belle gasped as something flew past her shoulder and shattered when it hit the wall. He grabbed the cups from the tray and was throwing them aimlessly at her, at the door, at the columns decorating the room. He cursed and swore, howling like a wounded animal. Belle knew she couldn’t stay with him like that. She could only hope he’d not harm himself.

She turned around and walked away, her departure from the castle followed by the sound of breaking glass and china.


	24. The Village

Belle did not know where to go. The day was bright, the air breathing of spring but the good weather lost all its charm. It was the first time she could step out the castle in weeks but there was no joy in it. She walked out slowly and let her feet carry her ahead.

She didn’t pay attention to the threes around the road or birds hopping on the branches. How could he do that to her? Belle was hurt to receive such treatment but it pained her even more to realize how hurt _he_ must have been. Rumpelstiltskin let himself believe she betrayed him and nothing she could say to convince him otherwise.

She considered her options. She could return home, surely there was enough gold to hire a coachman and find her way back to her father’s lands. Belle missed her papa, she really did but even being homesick, her intuition told her it wasn’t yet time to return home.

Belle could stay in a village; perhaps people were in need of a midwife. She knew little, just some herbs and simple potions, but she could learn fast if someone was willing to accept her. Midwife was a good occupation; she would help people and ease their pains not only by healing them but offering her advice.

Either way, she had to make it to the nearest settlement. Belle walked and walked, to her luck there was only one road, that twisted and turned around the forest but did not split into different paths. She reached the village only at dusk, her feet humming with tiredness. She’d never walked so far, but it took her mind off things and brought her peace. Belle no longer worried about her future or Rumpelstiltskin. All she wanted was a roof over her head and a bed. All she required was sleep.

Belle spotted a group of children playing in front of a small shack. She approached them but when she opened her mouth to speak, an older lady snatched the little ones and dragged them into the house. It striked Belle as odd, but maybe the locals were careful around the strangers. She cleared her throat and asked the woman for directions to the nearest inn, making sure her voice did not sound threatening. The woman just bulged her eyes out at Belle but said nothing in return.

They didn’t speak another language here, did they? Rumpelstiltskin did have a slight accent but he could have acquired it from travelling. Belle hoped that if they did use some other dialect here, she could explain her needs with gestures. But other people she met refused to talk to her as well. They’d stare at her and whisper to each other as she passed but none offered his help.

It was getting darker and Belle could not see where she was going. Her feet stumbled across the small pebbles on the road and sank into mud puddles accidentally. She couldn’t understand why those people did not want to help her and why some pointed at her with their fingers. Belle reached the other side of the village before she saw a sign, with the paint faded and chipping, which promised her a comfortable bed and a healthy breakfast at a modest price. Relieved, she pushed the door and walked it.

The tall man behind the counter did not greet her nor did he respond to her soft wish of good evening. He was rather thing and had long mustache which were partially grey. They looked like they’d been powdered with flour, Belle mused.

“I would like to have a room for several nights,” she said politely. The man blinked and looked at her. Frustrated, she thought even the dullest innkeeper could figure out the reason why a woman would come into his establishment at the fall of the night.

“A room,” she repeated slowly and pondered what other language the folk could speak. Should she try Mercian? But she couldn’t recall the word for room in it.

After a few moments the man spoke. His voice was clear and there was no thick accent in his speech.

“You come from the Dark Castle, do you not?”

Belle failed to see how it mattered.

“Yes, yes,” she said, exasperated. “I am tired, please find a decent room for me to rest.”

“I’m afraid we have nothing to offer to you,” the man spoke slowly and eyed her to the point where it was impolite. Belle knew he was lying – behind him was a board with keys to the rooms and only few of those were missing from their places. He had plenty of chambers available and she was getting irritated by his delay to show her to one of them, whatever the source of his hesitance was.

“You don’t understand,” Belle tried again, pushing the hood of the cape off her head. Perhaps he mistook her for some beggar with her making the way on foot and her cloak splattered with mud. “I have the money to pay you,” she added, shaking two large gold coins onto the counter.

But the sight of gold did not persuade him.

“We’ve got nothing to offer to _you_ ,” he emphasized the last word. “Take your gold and leave.”

Belle looked at him, awe-struck. How did it matter whether she came from the castle or not? Did those people think she was cursed or diseased? At least it explained why no one on the streets wanted to talk to her.

“Keep it,” she said to the man and made no move to pick up the coins.

It was chilly outside. Belle thought it would be no use to try knocking on doors asking if she could stay for a night. Even the owner if the inn refused to give her lodging for a night after she offered gold. She looked around. She was too tired to make her way back to the castle. Her feet hurt and she was hungry. Just to add to her misery, it began drizzling.

With a sigh, Belle walked to the nearest building. It reeked of dung and turned out to be stables. Well, it was better than nothing. She found the spot of stacked hay and leaned against it. The smell wasn’t too bad once she got used to it. Belle closed her eyes. At least it was warmer than outside and dry. She fell asleep immediately, her fatigue overpowering her worries and even the snorts and neigh of horses did not disturb her rest.


	25. Reunion

Belle woke up and stretched, her side and her neck feeling as if they were prickled by tiny needles as the blood rushed there. She wasn’t comfortable from sleeping straight up but she caught enough rest to make it through another day. There’d been worse places to sleep, like a dungeon cell.

Even though she slept, her mind seemed to be restless and shaped a plan during the night. Belle knew what she had to do. She would return to the castle now that Rumpelstiltskin had probably calmed down and talk to him. She would tell him he had no right to treat her like this. That she had dignity and self-respect and that he had to learn to trust people. Yes, that’s what she was going to do, and he would _listen_. After she’d say everything she considered necessary, she’d probably set back on her route. Belle decided to take one small step at a time. She had no illusions about their happy reunion, where he would sweep her in his arms and swear to never let her go, admit that he was wrong and beg for forgiveness. There would be none of that. But she did want to make her point. She’d write him a letter but she doubted it’d be delivered; the villagers would probably burn the parchment thinking it was cursed because Belle touched it. And even if the letter was sent, he may still not read it. She had to be brave and face him eye-to-eye.

Once she made her mind up, the rest was easy. Belle started walking back, wincing a little as her feet were still tender; she probably had several bad blisters but she didn’t want to look. With the rising sun protecting her back against the morning chill, she walked on the muddy road to the Dark Castle with determination.

***

Belle felt anxious by the time she reached the gates. It was dark and the castle towered over her, the top of it disappearing in the shadows of inky sky. What if the castle would not permit her to enter? What if by banning her Rumpelstiltskin cut off every possible way for her to return? There was no use speculating, she had to find out. Belle held her breath and pushed the gates. They opened soundlessly and she stepped in, relieved.

The castle doors yielded easily as well. At this time of the day the only place Rumpelstiltskin could possibly be at was at his wheel. She smiled fondly at the image of him spinning, his clever fingers bending and twisting the straw which turned into the finest thread of pure gold under his touch. It was a cozy picture and even the girl knew she did not intend to stay here long after they had their conversation, being inside the castle felt like coming home.

Belle unclasped her cloak and left it at the table in the middle of the hall. She scowled, seeing the dirty trail of footprints she left but decided she could take care of those later, or maybe Rumpelstiltskin would magically erase them.

He was indeed at his wheel but he wasn’t spinning. He sat motionless, his face hidden in his palms and his elbows resting upon his knobby knees. Belle even felt guilty for a second as if she was disturbing something not meant to be seen; he looked incredibly sad and lonely, his small figure brittle in the light of the fireplace. Rumpelstiltskin did not raise his head at the sound of her steps. Belle wrinkled her nose, it was strange he could not _smell_ her from across the room. The odour of horse dung and sweat clung to her strongly and she wondered if he minded her taking a bath before she’d leave again.

She walked slowly to avoid stepping on shreds of china which littered the floor and stopped at his side, standing close enough to make out the fine embroidery on his sleeves and the shape of small scales covering her fingers. Belle reached out carefully not to startle him and placed her palm on top of his head. Her fingers found their way into his hair, combing through the tangled strands. When he did not lift his head up, she gently tugged on his hair to draw his attention.

“Rumpelstiltskin,” she called, meaning to speak out all what was on her heart, but his name was all Belle said.

The harsh words she recited on her way here seemed meaningless now. There would be time for it. She stroked the side of his face, his protruding cheekbones until he finally opened his eyes to look at her. The pupils of his eyes were dilated, and he had a dreamy and misty look about him. Wordlessly, he turned her palm over, pressing kisses inside of her hand. Belle felt slightly confused, she did not know what to do with this new sad and quiet Rumpelstiltskin. Why was he acting so strange?

He closed his eyes again, leaning into her touch. Then, through the cloud of all the scents around her, Belle could trace something else – bitter and sharp. Alcohol. He was drunk. She didn’t know whether she ought to cry or laugh with the relief. He was drunk and there she was standing, being all serious with her mind set on a grave conversation not so long ago.

“Rumpelstiltskin, I am back,” she pulled on his hair again, a little harder this time and his eyes seemed to focus on her better. “We need to talk.”

“Belle…” he whispered, oblivious to everything else she said. Then he flung his arms around her middle, burying his face in her dress.

“Belle. Yer back,” his voice was muffled by her clothes. “Back,” he repeated dreamily. Apparently, the alcohol reduced his usually eloquent speech to just one-word sentences and even those came out slurred. At least he recognized her, that was a start.

He lifted his head, his chin still resting against the bodice of her gown.

“Mine?” he enquired, his eyebrows raised, staring into her face intently. Or as close to that as he could focus them.

Belle rolled her eyes. How was she supposed to answer that?

“No, I am not a thing to be owned, Rumpelstiltskin. I belong to myself only,” she replied sternly.

Such subtleties as not being an object of ownership escaped his fumed mind.

“Belle,” he repeated with care slowly and as if making some important point. “Mine?”

His eyes were so full of childish hope and pleading that she gave up. There was no harm in comforting him in that state, besides, he could hardly grasp anything else she was saying. Strangely enough she did not feel insulted by his possessiveness.

“Yours,” she agreed, her fingers retuning to petting his hair and scratching over his scalp gently. His eyes were damp and so grateful, she knew admitting she was his was the most correct thing she’d ever done. Rumpelstiltskin whimpered and pressed his face around her middle. She could make out _Belle_ and _mine_ whispered between the kisses he planted all over her dress and she couldn’t help feeling warm and fuzzy all over.

He didn’t grow tired of repeating her name over and over and Belle hoped that it wouldn’t last the next day. She tried to pry his hands off her waist but he only tightened his grip around her and pulled the girl closer, almost throwing her off balance. She was content to stay like this for a while but her feet were tired and she had to get him to bed, where he would sleep this weird intoxication off and become himself again.

“You need to get some sleep,” she prompted, still stroking his hair. The answer that came someplace from around her navel was totally incoherent. Belle smiled and decided that maybe his way of speaking would work.

“You. Bed. Now.”

Breaking it up in simple terms did seem to make him understand her. He transported them onto a large bed in a swirl of his magic, still clinging to her like a dying man. Belle scowled – they both had their footwear on and she was leaving smears of dirt on the expensive fabric of the sheets. She tried to wriggle away from his grasp but it was of no use. Rumpelstiltskin looked up, searching for her eyes.

“Mine?” he asked again, so serious that Belle couldn’t hold back and smile when she nodded.

“Yours,” she admitted and he nuzzled at her neck happily. Belle wondered idly if he could even purr if she scratched behind his ears. Rumpelstiltskin settled his head against her shoulder, the top of his hair tickling under the girl’s chin.

“Stay,” he half-asked and half-pleaded.

“I am not going anywhere,” Belle promised. It was true, not just because he was holding onto her even long after he fell asleep, but because she had no heart to leave. He needed her, he wanted her and it wasn’t a big revelation when she found out that she wanted it too. For better or for worse.


	26. Conditions

Rumpelstiltskin woke up in the darkness of his bedroom from the most wonderful dream. He dreamt Belle was back and that she forgave him and let him hold her in his arms. It was silly, of course, yet not less enjoyable. She’d been gone for little more than two days but it felt like an eternity. He sighed. At least he slept with no usual nightmares, and he had to be grateful for it. But what was that smell in his bedroom? He waved his hand, getting rid off the odour when someone shifted in bed to his right. Oh no, no. He absolutely did _not_ go out of his castle the day before and he did not bring anyone else back with him, did he? Rumpelstiltskin snapped his fingers lighting the candelabra closest to his bed. He half-expected to find a girl from the brothel (even though he swore to never set foot at the horrid place) or perhaps last night’s drinking buddy. Instead, he gasped, recognizing a mop of brown curls that could only belong to his former apprentice.

“Belle?” it was silly, but he had to make sure.

His voice was barely a whisper, but enough to disturb the vision. She raised her hand protectively over her eyes to avoid most of the candle light.

“Don’t you start to _Belle_ me again,” she grumbled, husky from sleep but contrary to her words there was a smile blossoming on her lips. “How are you feeling?” the genuine concern in her voice was quickly replaced by astonishment. “Why am I naked?”

It was probably his fault; when he willed the magic to eliminate the offending smell, it must have vanished Belle’s clothes along with it. He fixed that mishap immediately, dressing her up in the most conservative of her gowns, covering the girl from neck to toe in blue linen. Still, she looked somewhat dumb-struck - hardly something he imagined when he thought of her in his bed.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted and it seemed that once those simple words fell from his lips, the dam was broken and more words poured, unstoppable.

“I’m sorry I treated you like that. I am sorry for losing my temper, for yelling and throwing stuff at you. I am sorry I ever doubted you and believed you betrayed me. I am sorry I tried to hurt you with my words, you never deserved anything I called you. I am sorry… well, I am sorry for being myself,” he ended clumsily. “Do you want me to send you to your room?”

Belle ignored the last question and studied his face for a few seconds. He didn’t dare to meet her eyes.

“Why do you always expect me to stab your back with a knife?” she asked slowly.

Rumpelstiltskin considered how to answer that. Because that’s what usually happens to me? Because I’m too hideous for anyone to truly feel anything for me? He felt like he had already shown enough vulnerability to her, apologizing never came easy for him. What if he were to speak his fears out loud? She’d see how pathetic he was and turn away. He felt ashamed for doubting her again but old habits are hard to perish. He finally decided to play around; the question was too serious and should be left till some other night.

“Because,” he started, “because you _are_ an assassin after all.”

“Hey!” Belle swatted his arm hard enough to sting. “That is not a bit funny!” she protested before throwing her head back and laughing.

Her giggles were extremely contagious and Rumpelstiltskin found himself laughing with her. It wasn’t one of his usual mocking sniggers, but laugher born deep within his chest, involuntary and sincere. In truth, he did not mind one bit if the girl would be the death of him. She already possessed more power over him than even his enchanted dagger could grant and for the first time the idea of being controlled did not frighten him.

“You will be forgiven,” she said, serious once again after their merriness died away, “but I have conditions.”

Rumpelstiltskin felt a pang of disappointment. What would it be? He hardly knew what to expect of Belle but he was so relieved to have her around that he could at least listen.

“I’d like you to let me go outside. I promise I will not disappear or run away. I want you to stop throwing things at me. If there is a problem, I want _us_ to talk it over,” his heart skipped a beat at hearing her say us, “while giving me a chance to speak. I want to stop feeling like I am dancing on an edge of a knife with you and some small thing can throw me off balance and send me crashing down. I want you to stop doubting me and accept me in your life. I want you to open up and be honest with me. I want you to let me in, Rumpelstiltskin.”

When Belle said she had conditions, that was a blunt understatement. She was asking so little and at the same time so much. Was he ready to let her in? He was afraid of pain, afraid of losing her. But wouldn’t he lose her by refusing those requests? The girl looked at him expectantly.

“I cannot promise I will,” he said honestly, “but I do promise to try. I will try to do anything it takes to make you happy.”

“Anything?” she asked, shifting closer to him.

“Anything,” he confirmed. She was so near he could sense the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her nightgown and the layers of his own clothing. Their breath mingled and the warm puff of the air she exhaled over his lips was enough of a caress to make his belly tighten with desire.

“Anything?” she echoed again, her voice now playful and suggestive, teasing and tempting. As if trying to test how far her abilities to hypnotize him with a single word went, she slipped her small palm into the cut of his shirt to rest it over his heart.

“Yes,” Rumpelstiltskin breathed before her lips covered his.

The kiss wasn’t a bit gentle. Belle’s lips claimed him, her tongue demanded entrance. She groaned as he man parted his lips and she scraped her teeth over them, nibbling, biting, licking every place she could get to – his uneven teeth, his palate, battling his tongue, drunk on realization he was hers to do as she pleased.


	27. Possession

Belle kissed him like she couldn’t get enough of him, only stopping short to draw in a breath. She shifted closer, her upper body sprawled on him and Rumpelstiltskin supported her by curling his arm around her side, gently stroking along her back. He didn’t want to rush things but he couldn’t resist pulling her completely on top of him and Belle wriggled, trying to get more comfortable. She could feel his hardness pressed against her belly but instead of moving away, she thrust herself forward. Rumpelstiltskin moaned at the contact and the girl pulled away from his lips, grinning. Satisfied with his reaction, she looked at him, a devilish mischief dancing in her eyes. Belle steadied herself, leaning on her arms planted on the sides of his head and without breaking eye contact, ground her pelvis against him purposefully. Where did she even learn that? He was confident Belle was still a maiden but she showed no fear or worry as she pulled the rim of the nightgown up and straddled his hips, positioning herself over his bulging cock and setting her fingers onto the task of undoing clasps of his vest.

She frowned a little, trying to figure out how to loosen the tricky fastening and he moved to help her. Their fingers bumped and intertwined, delaying the process rather than helping, but that was a small price for the luxury of feeling her touch. Belle finally managed to click the last metal clasp free and pushed the folds of his vest to the sides. Her palms smoothed out the fabric of his silk shirt and slid upwards towards the lace in front of his shirt.

She was quite determined on getting him undressed and despite the fact that he wanted it too, he felt a bit intimidated. Belle may be innocent, but ignorant wasn’t something that ever applied to her. She probably read about the act and he tried to recall whether there were books on sex in his library. He hoped not. It was hard to concentrate with her bottom rubbing on his crotch and her hands tugging his shirt up. His stomach was already exposed but he didn’t raise his arms, and the shirt was stuck under them. Belle gave him a strict look as if he were a misbehaving child. She probably expected their first time to be miraculous (and it was just that in his fantasies as well), to experience fireworks or whatever they described in books. Rumpelstiltskin did not feel he was capable of fireworks though, it’s been so long since he’d done it. And he never had to deal with virgins before; his wife wasn’t one when he took her on their wedding night.

That thought was making him cringe. Gods, maybe that’s what Belle wanted of him? Marriage? If she did, she hid it well; undressing him was hardly an indication of marital desires. As her fingers were unable to pull his shirt off, she switched her attention to his breeches. She got them untied halfway and he had to grab her wrist to prevent her from finishing the task.

“Is that what you really want, darling?” he couldn’t say why he picked that endearment, but referring to Belle using his usual _dearie_ seemed wrong at the moment.

The girl gave him a look that said she’d never heard anything more stupid.

“Yes I am,” she added, sensing it was not enough to convince him with her glare.

“Do you want me to… use magic?” he could just apply it without asking, but Belle would feel it nevertheless. Besides, he did promise to be honest with her not so long ago.

She shook her head with a no and returned to unlacing his breeches.

“It might hurt,” he offered but she merely shrugged, undisturbed.

“Let me at least put the lights out,” Rumpelstiltskin hated to sound pleading but if he did disappoint her with his poor performance, he did not want to face the accusation in her eyes.

“No, leave it,” she said in a way that indicated it was useless to argue. “I want to see you,” she added more softly, catching his look of concern. She bent down to kiss him, gently exploring his mouth to reassure.

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes, melting into a kiss. He did know some things and he’d do his best to pleasure her. Instead of dwelling on his lack of experience, he concentrated on her sighs and little squirms, on how soft her skin was under his fingers and how her hair tickled his face. When Belle bent down to kiss him, he met her half-way, propped on his elbows. The position was not the most comfortable one but he wasn’t about to complain.

Trying to keep his balance with just one arm supporting his weight, he let his right hand wander. She was so wonderfully responsive, arching her body when his hand cupped one of her breasts, the nipple immediately hard and straining against the thin fabric of the gown. It wasn’t enough and Rumpelstiltskin made the distracting clothing vanish, not bothering to waste any time pulling it off.

He made a mental note to thank Belle later for insisting on not being in the darkness – the flickering flame of candles made her look even more beautiful and he wanted every moment of that night memorized. Rumpelstiltskin pulled away to look at her. She was all softness and curves, her perky breasts topped with small rosy nipples and the crease between her breasts deepened by the shadows. Her chest was heaving and she couldn’t seem to sit straight up, her body wriggling in his lap, her most sensitive parts rubbing against his leather breeches. Never had he hated a piece of clothing more; he’d much rather feel her pussy on him with no barrier in between their bodies. Belle did not seem ashamed of her nakedness, but she shivered under his hungry gaze. She slowly lifted her hands to her hair, twisting it up and away from her chest. Her breasts rose a little with the movement of her arms and he swallowed noisily. His hand went up, following the curve underneath her breasts with just his fingertips and tracing up, circling the areola but not touching the nipple. Belle sucked her breath as the rough pad of his finger pressed against her nipple, flicking it and then capturing the sensitive nub between his thumb and index finger.

Rumpelstiltskin studied her face but she closed her eyes and threw her head back. His hand didn’t stay at her breasts long, though - it went up, his fingers sliding along her collarbones. He explored her body slowly, as if he still didn’t quite believe he was allowed to touch her like this. The man slid his palm to the side of her neck, burying his fingers in her hair, then tracing the shape of her jawline. His thumb stopped to stroke the skin of her chin just under her bottom lip before pressing down, making her part her lips.

Belle licked her lips unconsciously but parted them. He ran his thumb across the pink flesh, her lips smooth and so delicately soft they could be the petals of an exotic flower. She darted her tongue out, flicking it against his finger before her moist lips closed around it and sucked on his thumb. Rumpelstiltskin hissed at the feel of her warm mouth encircling his finger, as her wicked and slightly rough tongue caressed the pad and the underside of his thumb.

Her eyes fluttered open, teasing, _knowing_ what kind of effect she had on him. Gods, she was driving him out of his mind. He wondered what it would be like to have those luscious lips wrapped around his cock, that warm inviting mouth applying just the same pressure and her tongue drawing the same patterns around his engorged manhood. There would be time for that, later, he had to stop thinking like that or he’d cream his trousers even without managing to take them off. Belle bit his thumb playfully before releasing it from her mouth and pulled on his shirt. He raised his arms up this time, letting the fabric slip off before it was unceremoniously tossed onto the floor.

Belle looked at his chest, but there was no fear or disgust in her eyes. She gazed at him with warmth and appreciation, her palms stroking him as she nearly hummed with pleasure, feeling his naked hairless skin, seeing him without layers of clothing for the first time. She ducked her head to lick at his neck, distracting him long enough for him to miss the moment her hand pulled him out of his breeches and wrapped around his rigid cock.

It was too much, too strong, he swore to himself he’d be slow, he _had_ to be slow and gentle and not selfish but her hand pulled and squeezed and he groaned and bucked into her touch helplessly. She had to stop, he couldn’t possibly last. He gasped and whimpered, the sounds he was making were low and guttural, almost beast-like but she just beamed at him, immensely proud that it was her touch that had him, the Dark One, quivering and begging. He tried to pry her fingers off, it was too soon, he had to take care of her pleasure but she just said simply: “Please let me. I want to see.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He leaned back against the assortment of pillows, watching her through half-hooded eyes. Belle pumped his cock, swiping her thumb across the wet tip each time her hand came up until she settled into a steady, yet rapid rhythm, up and down, her thumb rubbing the sensitive spot just under the ridge of his cock, where the bulbous head met the shaft. The sensation was over-consuming and he tried to hold back, to make it last even as he felt his cock thicken further under Belle’s ministrations; seeing her small hand wrapped around him like that was most likely the most erotic sight he’d ever been lucky to lay his eyes upon. Somehow she knew just the right way to touch him.

Rumpelstiltskin’s hands clawed at the sheets, his toes curling and he bucked into her touch, throwing her off rhythm with his frantic thrusts but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered, he was so close, so fucking close… He bit down on his bottom lip to muffle the groan but it sounded unbelievably loud and carnal in the silence of the room. His cock spurted his thick cum in long gushes as Belle watched in awe, holding her breath. She slowed down her pumping but did not take her hand off him, squeezing every last drop until he winced, his member becoming too sensitive to touch.

He did not know if he was supposed to feel ashamed; he felt ultimately exposed and guilty – the girl of his dreams was in his bed, but all he did was pursue his own pleasure, dirtying his stomach and sheets. Belle shifted and worked on the lacing of his boots, pulling them off him. Her hair fell around his face, obscuring her features and Rumpelstiltskin was worried. Did she feel disgusted? Did he disgrace himself for letting her see his orgasm? She pulled his breeches off him, wordlessly and he opened his mouth to say something. He needed to fix things, he hated to fuck up that moment but he didn’t have enough time to shape the words.

Belle looked at the pool of cum on his stomach, the pearly fluid turning almost clear and dipped her index finger in it. Scooping it up, she raised her finger to her mouth, sucking it clean. She repeated the action again, and holding his gaze, she let her pink tongue catch the running liquid and thoroughly licked her joints before giving him a saucy smile. It was more than he could take.

With a snarl Rumpelstiltskin grabbed her and smashed his lips to hers in a kiss, licking his own cum from her mouth and rolling over to pin Belle to the bed. He loved to feel her naked under him, even though his belly was slick with his cum rubbing off onto her skin. He was careful not to crush her, but Belle pulled him closer, hooking her leg behind his knee, responding to his kisses passionately.

Some of his arousal blunted but not quite gone with an orgasm, he concentrated on her solely, letting go of her lips to lick her neck, nibbling and placing a trail of light bites along her milky skin. She was his entire world, he’d be happy if he never saw another human being, if all of his days were spent like this, where he could taste her, touch her, breathe her and hear only her moans and pleads. His hand rested on the curve of her hip, stroking her smooth skin. Belle’s fingers tangled in his hair and she guided him to her breasts, crying out as his greedy mouth lavished her skin, his lips closing around the nipple and scraping his teeth over it. He lapped at her nipples eagerly, alternating between them, cupping her small breasts and pushing them up and together, licking as much skin as he could. She was thrashing under his open-mouthed kisses wildly, crossing her ankles behind his back, pulling him down and still feeling it wasn’t enough.

He was hard again, hot and ready for her, his cock nested in the crook of her thigh. He rocked against her lightly and she raised her hips, searching for more contact. Rumpelstiltskin wanted to press into her, tighter, till he could dissolve into her, become one. She pleaded for something but he couldn’t quite make out the words. He squeezed his hand between their bodies, stopping when he reached the top of her curls, raking his fingers through them, moving lower and lower to reach her core. She was so hot and slick when he separated the tender folds to stroke her in between. He wished he could see her but he didn’t have the power to pull away as if being apart would kill him.

His wet fingers found her clit and he stroked it, trying to synchronize the movement of his hand with the suction of his mouth. Belle rocked against his hand, whimpering and asking for more. He realized she must be close for her clitoris throbbed under his touch but she pulled on his hair, making him raise his hand, catching his lips in a desperate kiss, whispering _please_ and _now_ and _more_ through it.

He lifted his body off hers enough to grab his cock in hand and line it up with her entrance. He did not press forward immediately though, coating himself with her juices and spreading them around with the head of his cock, sliding it across her clit.

Belle raised her knees and Rumpelstiltskin quit teasing. He positioned himself lower, pushing forward but she was so wet, he had to steady his cock with his hand to prevent it from slipping off his aim. He didn’t want to ram his member in, instead he pushed against her entrance, waiting for her muscles to relax and let him in. Eventually, the head of his cock slid inside and Belle gasped at the sensation. He was eyeing her face closely, searching for the look of discomfort or pain but there was none. She only winced a little, her body stretching and adjusting to his thickness. Rumpelstiltskin withdrew and pressed back, entering her a little more but not moving until she gave him a nudge with her feet against his backside, indicating it was okay for him to move.

He was sure he could blow right from the sheer feel of her heat. Her pussy was incredibly tight, for a few moments he doubted if it was physically possible for him to penetrate her at all. He rocked against her slowly, pulling out and sliding a little further each time. Rumpelstiltskin took his time, entering her patiently and without any rush and both of them gasped when he was sheathed in her fully and his pelvis rested on her mound.

Belle breathed deeply, her inner muscles clenching him, trying to accommodate his cock. She smiled, seeing how much concern was written on the man’s face. She lifted her head for a kiss, the movement causing her body to shift and she let out a surprised _oh_ into his lips. She raised her hips off the bed a little and moaned as his cock slid even deeper. Why did he ever even doubt? They clicked together perfectly, like two pieces of the same puzzle. They were meant to be that way, joined and their hearts beating in unison. The previous years of solitude no longer mattered; he’d endure a lot more if it meant he’d find Belle at the end of his way.

Taking it as a hint to move, Rumpelstiltskin began to thrust, supporting his weight on his outstretched arms. Belle moaned and dug her nails into his back, urging him on, whispering encouragements and asking him to thrust harder, faster and soon he was pulling out almost completely, where only her inner walls would grasp the head of his cock and slam back in. He wanted it to last forever but he wanted to cum as well. Yet Rumpelstiltskin knew he had to be more considerate, he wanted her to reach her pleasure.

He guided Belle’s hand to where their bodies joined and she understood his intention. She caressed herself roughly, her fingers sliding on the sides on her clit, pinching and pulling it fast, building herself up, her inner walls tightening. Rumpelstiltskin was slamming into her hard and he seemed to hit just the right spot. Her body went rigid and she moaned and quivered, the orgasm washing over her body, making her eyes roll back in her head. He fucked her through it, slowing the pace down only when the girl became aware of her surroundings again.

Only then did he allow himself to let go, hugging her tightly, his hands wrapped around her slender back, he was so close to her he couldn’t tell where his own body ended and hers started. It was impossible to move when he was pressed to her that way but somehow he moved. Her body was damp with perspiration and he licked the droplets of sweat off her skin.

He was wrapped with Belle’s arms and legs, his cock engulfed in her wet tight heat and it was too good, making it impossible to think, making it impossible to stop. His senses shrunk to the feel of her pussy squeezing him, milking him, craving his seed. Rumpelstiltskin could no longer resist it, he came, coating her insides with his cum, his orgasm times stronger and  more intense with the feel of  her tight walls wrapped around his cock. He shook and held still as his cock throbbed and pulsed. He was sure he was spent, there was not a single drop left in him.

He had enough common sense about him not to collapse on top of Belle. He dropped onto his side, pulling the girl along with him, reluctant to part. She stroked his hair, kissing his eyelids and brow until his breathing became even. He felt disappointed when his cock shrank and slipped out of her.

“You’re wonderful,” she whispered, and this time he did not doubt her words one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thanks to everyone who's followed the story so far or paused to leave kudos and comments. It makes me grin like a fool and go "awww" each time.
> 
> I hope this chapter warmed you up from the inside on this cold day (assuming it is cold wherever you are, because it's freaking freezing in here).
> 
> And no, it's not the end of the story, brace yourself for more fluff and smuttiness (that I am only too happy to deliver) coming your way soon :3


	28. Pancakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morning fluff, sprinkled with curiosity and a bit of doubts :3

Belle had always thought that becoming a woman would change her perception of the world; that she’d somehow become wiser, perhaps a little more serious and balanced. That she would acquire the aura of dignity and quiet grace the married and older ladies carried around them. Yet when she opened her eyes the next morning – it had to be morning; the thin grey light coming through the gap between the window shutters was surely borne by the first sunrays of dawn – she did not feel a bit different apart from feeling the need to smile constantly. She couldn’t quite explain why that grin was on her face, pulling the corners of her mouth upwards but it seemed impossible to get rid off it. It wasn’t a knowing smile, or a saucy one. She merely felt happy.

The books warned her there would be pain and blood but there was neither; however, it did nothing to prepare her for how much stronger she’d feel attached to the man. Belle’s chest was swollen with tenderness and incredible warmth, the force of which frightened her a bit. But she didn’t even try to hold back on her feelings; her only concern was not to show too much of those emotions to Rumpelstiltskin because they’d definitely drive him away.

As her glance shifted to the man sleeping beside her, Belle’s smile widened and she wondered if her cheeks would hurt later from it. It was hard to perceive that the most feared and despised man of the kingdoms, the Dark One everybody used to scare their children with, was capable of communicating so much affection and care through his touch. Was there anyone who’d ever seen this side of him? Had anyone even tried to glance beyond the armour of his scowls, sharp words and imposing clothes? Would there be anyone else besides her willing to uncover his true nature? Belle felt a pang of jealousy at the thought. She realized she did not want that to happen, just as a night ago Rumpelstiltskin asked her if she was his, she wanted the sorcerer to belong to _her_ only, both body and soul. She was surprised she felt so possessive all of a sudden, but her mind darkly insisted she had every right to think of him as hers. Should there be anyone else intruding, she was ready to fight.

But did he feel the same way? What if he didn’t enjoy being with her as much as Belle liked it? He seemed quite pleased with their love-making in spite of her lack of experience, but she felt so ordinary compared to him; would just a plain girl like her be enough for him? Involuntarily, her mind projected a picture of Regina – confident, stunning, dark. Belle felt so bleak and bland compared to her. Perhaps that woman would be a better match for him; her intuition prompted her that those two shared some unspoken common past and Regina knew so much of magic. They could talk about so many things, discuss spells or create new ones. All Belle could offer up in conversation was her childhood adventures and stories she read in her books.

Rumpelstiltskin was sleeping on his back, oblivious to her troubled thoughts. His mouth was slightly ajar and his hand was clenching the sheets to his chest. Sleep made him look younger, more relaxed and peaceful, his frown lines smoothed out and the usual solemnity gone from his face. Belle shifted closer to him, but the man did not wake up. She tugged on the sheets, releasing them from his clasp and pulled them down, exposing the right side of his chest. His skin looked almost smooth in the dim light cast by the nearly burnt-out candles and the grey streak of an early-spring sunrise. She pulled the sheets down below his navel, pausing to have a better look at him. Rumpelstiltskin stirred in his sleep but did not wake up. She knew he’d never allow her to gaze at him openly like this if he were awake; he’d make an excuse to cover himself or distract her with his kisses and touches.

Belle saw no reason for him to be ashamed of his body. It wasn’t like she had seen too many naked men, but occasionally she did spot a worker in a field with just his trousers on or watch the boys practicing sword-fighting without their constraining shirts. Rumpelstiltskin’s form was more subtle. He was lean and not too broadly-shouldered, but she could see the wiry muscles in his upper arms. She carefully placed her hand on his chest, moving it in small circles. His skin was warm to the touch and slightly rough. Belle let her fingers trace randomly the pattern of scales, wondering what it felt like for him. Was his skin more sensitive than hers, or was he unresponsive to such light touches? Well, he did seem to enjoy being touched, so perhaps the scales did not matter. Thinking about where Rumpelstiltskin particularly enjoyed being touched, her gaze wandered lower, down his slabsided stomach and followed the trail of coarse hairs disappearing beneath the sheets.

Belle hesitated for a second. She wanted to give into her curiosity and explore that part of his anatomy; surely he’d not be upset if she did so while he was asleep? He told her before to do as she pleased but his mood changed faster than the summer sky. Finally her curiosity won. Belle pulled the obscuring sheet completely off him; if he could study her naked body, it would be only fair to do the same to him. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his cock, which lay flaccid and small against his hip. Belle curled her fingers around it and the flesh responded in an instant, thickening as the blood rushed to it. With a surprised _oh_ she looked up at his face only to find Rumpelstiltskin watching her quietly, now fully awake.

“Insatiable little minx, are you not?” he drawled in a low voice and Belle blushed, not sure if that was a compliment or an accusation. She wrapped her hand around his cock again, now semi-hard and gave it a several strokes, enjoying the content sigh that escaped his lips. Before she could do anymore, though, his hands pulled her upwards and he hooked his long fingers under her chin, making her meet his eyes.

“How are you feeling, darling?” the man asked seriously, watching her eyes in case she decided to hide the truth from him.

Frankly, Belle did not know how to answer that simple question. Physically, she felt superb, but she wasn’t sure if she should tell him about the doubts gnawing on her heart.

“I am fine,” she replied, deciding it was the condition of her body Rumpelstiltskin was interested in. She looked him directly in the eye; somehow her answer did not satisfy him fully. Did he expect her to regret what happened the previous night?

“I _am_ fine,” Belle repeated firmly, moving down to close the distance between them and give him a kiss. Unfortunately, her stomach chose that exact moment to give an angry rumble. She pulled away, slightly embarrassed, but the man only smiled at her.

“Would you like some breakfast, sweetheart?” he enquired, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and stroking the pad of his thumb on her cheek.

Belle grinned at the endearment and shook her head in a no. She cuddled to the man, putting her head on his shoulder and smiling again, as his arm wrapped around her back, pulling him closer. She did not feel ready to leave the cosy bed for the morning meal. Rumpelstiltskin seemed to read her mind.

“I could summon something in here,” he offered.

Belle sighed and agreed to that. As a large plate full of fresh fluffy pancakes with small bowls of cream, honey and jam appeared between them, she wondered if they would ever get out of the bedroom. It seemed to her everything she needed for life, everything she required for happiness was conveniently located just in this very bed.


	29. Drops of Honey

The pancakes were delicious; sprinkled with just the right amount of cinnamon. Belle sat on the bed cross-legged, draping the sheet around her to restore at least a little of her decency. She tried dipping the pancakes in cream and honey and could not decide which she liked best. Rumpelstiltskin did not share this small breakfast with her but he would nibble the pieces from her hand when she offered; making sure that his tongue licked streaks of cream and honey from her fingers.

His tongue lingered on her skin longer than necessary and his eyes seemed darker when he’d look up at her face while sucking her fingertips clean. Those deliberate and purposeful licks made her shiver, the sparkles of desire running along her spine and prickling in the small of her back.

Another bite left a trickle of honey that dripped off her chin before she could catch it. Rumpelstiltskin’s gaze followed the path of the amber substance that stained her skin and top of the sheets which wrapped around her form. Belle saw a hungry and almost predatory smile tug on the corners of his lips, exposing his sharp uneven teeth, but somehow she did not feel a bit threatened by it.

“Aww, such a mishap, darling” he cooed in a voice that made her suspect that the honey on her chest could be his doing and not merely a result of her clumsiness. “Here, let me take care of that for you.”

And then his lips were on her skin, hot and greedy. Belle felt ashamed for the weak mewling noise that escaped her lips and he nibbled and sucked on her skin, looming over her and pushing the sheet away, just his fingertips scratching along her side.

“But the pancakes,” she protested half-heartedly.

Rumpelstiltskin waved his hand in irritation, making the food disappear. “To hell with pancakes,” he grumbled, barely lifting his lips off her so that she could feel his mouth form the words against her skin.

He just kissed her, teasing and avoiding the places she wanted him most. His lips travelled along her collarbones, the top of her shoulders and the cleft between her breasts. She couldn’t help squirming, somehow even those open-mouthed kisses on her not particularly sensitive parts making her moan, the feather-light brushes of his fingertips leaving trails of fire on her skin. He nuzzled the soft place behind her ear, his breath hot and tickly, before he bit down lightly and nibbled on her earlobe. Rumpelstiltskin looked up at one of her particularly loud whimpers to see if that was too much, if he was hurting her.

His face was so close, but the expression nonchalant, almost blank. Belle licked and parted her lips, hoping he’d understand what she wanted, take mercy and stop teasing her. But he stayed still, only inches separating them, sharing her breath and drinking it in. She moved forward to kiss him but he ducked his head away, light amusement hiding in the lines of his eyes.

“Something you want, my sweet?” he asked with polite curiosity.

Belle groaned; she couldn’t understand how he went from the passionate kisses to playing mock ignorance; such a swift change of moods was most unsettling. Did she really have to say it out loud? She tried to pull him closer, to show what she wanted rather than explain it with words, but the man would not give in.

“You,” she breathed, giving up her attempts to coax him closer. “I want you… on me, in me… please.” It was all Belle could master and she hoped that was enough to form an adequate reply. She wished she could say more but her lack of appropriate names as well as the remains of modesty and shyness prevented her from going into details; besides, Belle found it impossible to think when the man was so close, when her mind was foggy with the growing desire. He smirked and leaned in, tasting her lips, running his tongue along them and hooking it behind her upper lip, seeking out the faint traces of honey and the sweetness that belonged to her; that was her. The kiss was slow and thorough, as if he tried to catalogue which move of his tongue could make her gasp or what kind of pressure on her lips would have her press closer and demand more. His hand curled around the back of her head, steading her as the thumb of his other hand drew circles on her cheek.

They’d kissed so much the previous night Belle thought nothing could surprise her, but he kept switching from swift teasing strokes against her tongue to gentle sucking on it. Her body seemed to turn boneless, the pleasure aching in her lower belly. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the sharp edge of his shoulder blades, trying to pull him closer, but their knees were in the way, bumping together and preventing closer contact.

Rumpelstiltskin nudged her back gently, moving on top of her without breaking the kiss. His hand slipped between her legs and he gasped when he found her slick and ready. His fingers probed between her folds, circling and massaging at her entrance as the base of his palm pressed against her clit, the pressure pleasurable but not strong enough to bring her off. Belle wagged her hips, searching for more sensation, trying to impale herself on his fingers. Rumpelstiltskin denied her, withdrawing his hand and flipping her over onto her belly.

He paused for several moments, just looking at her pale skin against the black sheets. While she’d feel unnerved by his gaze or quietness anywhere else, in bed not knowing his next move seemed to excite her. In bed it was easier to trust him, to relax and accept him. In bed, he wasn’t the feared Dark One or the scornful sorcerer; he was a plain man who’d treated her gently and would never harm her, or at least that’s how she saw it.

His fingers followed the contours of her shoulder blades, down her spine and the curve of her buttocks. The touches were followed by faint scrapes of nails against her skin and it both was ticklish and pleasant. Her skin prickled at his touch and the soft hairs on her arms rising to stand on their ends. Belle wriggled impatiently, feeling the skin on top of her thighs slick with her own juices as if each stroke of his fingertips echoed down there, making her belly tighten. As much as she enjoyed his attention, she was frustrated that this position didn’t allow her to look at him, to see what he was doing or to touch him in return.

Rumpelstiltskin moved on top of her, straddling her hips and positioning himself just slightly lower than her buttocks. She could feel his cock, hard and heavy, against the cleft of her nether cheeks, as he began working her shoulders, squeezing and kneading the flesh. Rumpelstiltskin’s hands moved gradually lower, his thumbs moving in circles, pressing firmly into her lower back. His hands cupped her taut ass cheeks, pressing them together and capturing his manhood in between. He rocked against her ever so slightly, flexing his fingers and moving his thumbs lower, until they reached the curve where her butt joined her hips and moved inwards, the pads resting just on her outer pussy lips.

Belle rose off the bed, thrusting out her buttocks, indicating that his touch there was more than welcome. His thumbs stroked around her entrance, spreading the moisture and then she felt something else pressed there, more blunt, hotter and softer and Belle moaned at the realization of what exactly that thing was. Rumpelstiltskin slid the tip of his cock up and down her pussy lips, the friction eased by her excitement; the sensation sweet and leaving her aching for more. However, he seemed to hesitate and did not do anything else, continuing to tease her labia and clitoris with his cock. Belle tried to thrust back, to have him slide inside, claiming her, calming down that burning of desire for gods if he didn’t do it, she’d break into pieces.

“Please, I need you,” she whispered, but he still did not proceed. “I’m fine, I promise,” she added and that seemed to finally convince him. Spreading her lips apart with his fingers, he guided himself inside. This time, without the fear of possible pain that lingered at the back of her mind the first time, Belle could enjoy the feeling of being taken, being filled and her body stretching to accommodate his hardness. It was sweet and deliciously slow, but she felt impatient after all the previous teasing and bucked her hips back, meeting his shallow thrusts half way and burying him inside completely in one swift motion. She smiled contently at his sharp intake of breath above, and squirmed, trying to find the right angle, to have him slide out before she’d thrust up to sheath him in once again.

Rumpelstiltskin shifted, pinning her down to bed with the weight of his body, leaning down so that his lips were brushing her earlobe, his hot breath moving her hair.

“I didn’t know you were so wicked, darling,” he said huskily and Belle moaned, clenching her inner muscles around his manhood as his voice caressed her ear. “You’d have me undone when we’ve barely started, hmmm?” He pressed further forward, as if to stress his point.

Belle moaned again, not sure how to reply to that. She felt hot, the desire leaving her single-minded with little room for any other thoughts. She wanted to be taken, hard and fast until she’d climax. Rumpelstiltskin, of course, would not give her that right away. He parted her hair, exposing her neck, as he began to thrust slowly, rocking against her unhurriedly as his lips left a burning trail of kisses on her neck. She felt as if there were a tight ball of heat in her lower belly, waiting to become unwound. Belle felt extremely wanton, but she couldn’t help moving up to meet his thrusts, whimpering as that failed to make him increase the rhythm.

“Now, now,” he murmured, and she could swear there was a smirk playing on his lips as he spoke. “Patience, my sweet.”

He bit on the nape of her neck, holding her gently in place as a mother-cat would keep her naughty offspring under control and began moving steadily, few shallow thrusts just with the tip of his cock at the tight ring of muscles at her entrance and then a deeper stroke, with his hips slapping her backside. He kept it up for a while, the pace unfaltering, only his breathing giving away his enjoyment. Rumpelstiltskin squeezed his hand under her body, cupping her mound and moving his fingers in circles. Their positioning didn’t allow much room for movement, but the pressure of his wet fingers combined with the hard strokes of his cock inside were enough to build her pleasure up. She was a bit sore from yesterday, but that only heightened the sensation rather than bringing any discomfort.

Belle didn’t know what finally made her come undone – his teeth nibbling on her neck and making her skin break into goose bumps, the feel of his manhood sliding in and out of her, his fingers on her clitoris, the closeness of him being wrapped around her, chest against her back, his legs squeezing her thigh or the small quiet noises of enjoyment he was making, but suddenly it was too much. Her body spasmed as the pleasure washed down on her, making her sob with relief, her toes curling up as the heat spread through her body, intense and sharp, making everything disappear but this white-hot pleasure.

She was so wrapped in it that she missed the moment his trust turned erratic and his cock grew even harder, thicker before he too was cumming with a loud groan, his hot seed splashing deep inside, adding to her wetness. He kept moving, until the last shudder of her climax died away. Rumpelstiltskin did not climb off her immediately, listening to her heart beat calming down.

When he rolled onto his back, Belle moved to his side, tucking her head under his chin and hooking one leg over his. She knew that it was probably wrong of her to succumb to the joys of the flesh so easily, that she’d be shunned from any decent company if anyone ever found out what was going on between them in the bedroom, but she was surprised to find out she didn’t care. It was more than simply satisfying the carnal needs of her body; she cherished the blissful moments of closeness after love-making even more than the actual deed.

She only hoped that once they went back to their routine, this closeness would remain; that he’d still be as open as honest with her, as he was now. That this caring and gentle man would not hide behind the mask of a stern sorcerer once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I went over the edge with fluff *rolls her eyes*  
> I cannot stop it, it just gushes out of me


	30. The Greenhouse

Rumpelstiltskin summoned Belle’s clothes and left her dress up in private in his rooms while he descended to the dining room for a late breakfast or an early lunch. He didn’t feel hungry at all, but decided it’d be better for them to carry on with the routine. Belle joined him a few minutes later and he rose at her presence, but before he could move, the girl grabbed the back of the wooden chair and with the loudest screeching noise dragged it across the floor to the head of the table where he was sitting.

“I could use some company,” she explained merrily and Rumpelstiltskin arched one of his eyebrows.

“You realise that I could have done it by magic - faster and without all the noise?”

Belle only smiled at that. “Sure, but then I’d not have seen this puzzled expression on your face,” she replied cheekily, before sitting down and filling her plate. He only rolled his eyes at that, because really, she was picking up too much of his snark. Perhaps he had to guard his tongue with her further on; the girl learnt all too quickly.

She’d always been a tactile person, but Belle seemed to touch him even more now – small things like a fleeting touch on the hand or a brush of her knee against his hip under the table. Small things indeed, but he stored away those moments, to cherish them later, for when their time together came to an end… Rumpelstiltskin dreaded the moment. She said she’d stay, but would she truly, after their agreement was no longer effective?

“What’s wrong?” The shadow of those thoughts must have darkened his features, for Belle’s fingers curled around his hand, squeezing gently.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” he replied and Belle smiled at the endearment, although he probably used it half a dozen times before. Raising their joined hands, Rumpelstiltskin placed a light kiss on her fingers. There wasn’t anything wrong at the moment, as for the future… the decision would be entirely hers.

"Belle, you know that... that when I said those words before, it meant that the deal was truly off and… you don't have to stay."

He didn't want to admit it or to remind her of him losing his temper but it was the right thing to do. Words spoken in the dim light of the bedroom under the covers could seem appropriate in the heat of the moment, but reality usually hit hard with the merciless rays of sunrise. He didn't want to speak of it, yet the idea of Belle bringing up that subject was even worse.

"You want me to leave." It wasn't a question, but her voice rose at the last words slightly as if it was meant as one. _Do you want me to leave?_ No, not ever, not in the million years.

"I do not want you to feel like you're _obliged_ to do anything because you gave me your word." _I do not want you to stay because you pity me_. "I don't want you to be... unhappy." He swallowed with difficulty, as if simple words scratched his throat. Why was it so hard to speak?

Rumpelstiltskin felt that something shifted between them last night. Well, there was the physical aspect apparently, but her closeness also robbed him of something. The hard shell surrounding him and cutting him from the rest of the world was gone. He felt emotionally bare, exposed, _vulnerable_. It was as if he was hanging by a straw that would snap at any moment and he'd fall down. He felt endangered, as if his heart was in her small hand and she could tighten her fingers around it, crushing it, destroying him, turning away from him.

It was a ridiculous thought of course. Belle would never do that. The logical part of him knew that, but the weak human part, the coward, did not listen to it; it insisted he did not deserve her affection.

Belle looked at him, her eyes bright blue, honest and open.

“But I am not… unhappy, Rumpelstiltskin.”

His throat tightened at that and he said nothing else until the girl finished her breakfast, concerned about his voice cracking up if he tried to speak. _Not unhappy_ wasn’t the best thing they could achieve, but it was most likely the strongest positive emotion a woman had ever experienced with him.

“Now, if you’re ready, I’d like to show you something.”

Rumpelstiltskin led her out of the dining room, hiding a smile when her hands slipped back into his. He should have guessed she was the hands-holding type, but he did not mind a bit.

“Where are we going?” there was no worry in her voice, only curiosity. The man did not reply. He still didn’t feel comfortable about it, but he had to stop keeping her locked away in the castle and guarding her like a dragon would watch a chest of gold. With so many longing looks she gave the scenery behind the windows, he knew just the right thing to show Belle.

They followed the turns of the narrow corridor to the back entrance of the castle. He pushed the door open, letting Belle pass first into the sunlight and follow a curvy trail on the side of the castle. It stopped right before a small structure with tall glass windows.

“A greenhouse?” Belle’s voice was full of wonder and excitement. She stepped inside, looking over pots stocked up on a slightly crooked shelf and neat rows made in the soil.

“I thought you could occupy yourself here. Grow roses. Or tomatoes to eventually plant them outside.” He couldn’t hold back a snigger at imagining Belle in peasant clothes planting tomatoes. “There’re many books on plants and gardening in the library. Just let me know if you need something, and I’ll bring it.” He paused. “Unless you want to fetch it from the market yourself?” he added, voice hesitant and laced with worry.

“I guess not,” Belle wrinkled her nose, remembering how the villagers refused to talk to her or give her shelter for the night. “People in the village were not quite… friendly.”

 Rumpelstiltskin squinted his eyes, expression turning from timid to threatening.

“I’ll deal with them,” he promised darkly, but she clutched his hand, distracting him from the idea of vengeance.

“Please don’t,” no matter how upsetting her experience with the local people was, she didn’t want them to be hurt. “I think…. I think they were just scared and it’d be wrong to punish someone for being afraid.”

The phrase still ran in his ears when Rumpelstiltskin sat at his spinning wheel. He left Belle at the greenhouse, going through the supplies and pots, the dirt immediately getting under her nails. _It is wrong to punish someone for being afraid._ If other people shared those beliefs, would he become what he was? Weakness and fear set in motion the series of events that resulted in him becoming the Dark One, but could those be avoided if someone stopped and put himself in his shoes?

His wandering thoughts were disturbed by Belle returning to the room, but instead of curling up in the chair in front of the fireplace, she stood behind him, her palms slipping from his shoulders down his forearms.

“What exactly are you going, my dear?” he turned his head and arched one eye-brow at her.

“Breaking the concentration of the Dark One,” she joked weakly, straightening up and taking her hands off him. She paused uncertain, but then reached for him again. Belle’s fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck and he relaxed at her touch. Her hands, occasionally brushing against his skin, were slightly damp and cool; she must have spent a lot of time trying to get rid off the staining dirt.

“Are you staying up much longer?”

Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t sure if it was a masked invitation or just a simple question. Belle took his silence as a confirmation of him being reluctant to retire to the bedroom.

“Alright,” she sighed. “Good night then, Rumpelstiltskin.” She leaned to place the traditional kiss upon his cheek and left.

When he ascended the stairs to his room, he felt both anxious and hopeful. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t need sleep – he slept last night – but he wanted to know what Belle really meant by asking if he would come to bed soon. When the door to his bedroom opened soundlessly, his heart fluttered upon seeing her mop of brown curls spread on the pillow in the light of a single candle on the bedside table. The covers slipped off her shoulders and he discovered that the girl was modestly dressed in one of her night gowns. That meant she had to go to her room to pick one of them; it meant that Belle being in his bed was her _choice_ , her conscious decision. It was a logical conclusion yet no less surprising to him.

She stirred in her sleep, even though he could swear he made no noise, and opened her eyes groggily. Spotting him, without a word, she slid the covers to aside, inviting the man under. Rumpelstiltskin extinguished the candlelight and removed his clothing, magically putting a night shirt over his body.

He climbed into bed, curling behind Belle. His body was all elbows, knees and sharp angles and she wiggled, trying to get comfortable against him. They lay in the dark until their breathing became synchronized.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Belle whispered, and he smiled into her hair.

“Because sleep is for the innocent ones, sweetheart.”

She thought it over for several moments.

“But I am no longer innocent, am I?” He could picture her knitting her eyebrows when she was thinking over a particularly unusual idea. “Why do I feel so sleepy then?”

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled at it but offered no reply. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple and drew her warm body closer. He didn’t sleep that night but stayed still in bed, holding her in his arms and listening to her quiet breathing.


	31. The New Look at the Lab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case somebody wondered, tutsan and white dead-nettle are used in traditional medicine to remedy low hemoglobin.
> 
> @ SOFTKITTY13 – I apologize for misleading you, dearie, the chapter did not involve practicing magic which would lead to naughtiness (I think about something, then it turns out to be completely different when written), but I can’t say it spoiled things :)

“I want to try brewing this potion,” Belle said during their usual afternoon in the laboratory. She held a book open, pointing at the mentioned concoction with her finger. Rumpelstiltskin threw a quick glance at the page. It was a blood-replenishing mix, nothing complicated but troublesome due to the necessity to prepare it only during the rising moon and it had to be left to set for three days. Apparently, it could not be made in a rush or in case the emergency presented itself. It was a good potion to have in store although he could not imagine why Belle would ever need it – he could fix any injury before the help of the brew would be required.

“And why exactly do you want to do it?” Rumpelstiltskin drawled, glancing over the description of the potion on the page. The instructions were accurate enough, but the book was full of superstitious nonsense. “You are aware of the fact, my sweet, that this particular book requires the maker to be stark naked when preparing it? Perhaps, it _is_ the reason you picked it,” he sneered.

Belle cocked her head, studying him. “Do I really have to be naked for it?”

“As an interested party, I cannot give an honest answer to that question. But, if you do decide to undress, I will not mind.”

Belle sniggered at that and Rumpelstiltskin himself could not suppress a smile.

“I picked it, because tutsan and white dead-nettle are among the main ingredients, and I spotted some growing along the castle wall,” she explained patiently. “And it’s convenient that a couple days ago was the new moon, so…”

“Alright, do as you please; you know where the rest of ingredients are.” He could leave her to safely prepare the potion herself; in case something went wrong, only the least valuable part of his storage supplies would be wasted and none of the components could cause the concoction to explode or turn into acid. “Is my assistance needed?”

“So the feared Dark One will assist his apprentice in brewing?” Belle teased and he rolled his eyes at her. Truly, being in his company had rubbed off on her.

She went to the storage area and re-appeared in the lab, carrying several jars and placed them on the table with care. Belle checked the list of ingredients.

“Rumpelstiltskin,” the girl called. “Where can I find… beetle wings?” she wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant component.

“Oh, I left it on the shelf over there. Do you want me to get it?”

“No, I’ll do it.” Belle dragged a small stool over to the wall to reach the shelves better. Rumpelstiltskin just had a feeling it would result in a disaster, while he could simply summon the required jar. He hurried to the girl, and sure enough, when she tiptoed on the edge of the stool, reaching up to grab the beetles off the shelf, the stool reeled, throwing her off balance. She knocked a few jars off, sending them flying down and shattering into fine, tiny shards of glass. Rumpelstiltskin darted to her side just in time to catch her under her arms before she landed onto the floor. Belle’s body felt limp, supported only by his strength.

“I’m so clumsy,” she said apologizing, looking up and him and giving the man a tiny smile. Her expression morphed into a painful one when she tried to stand on her feet. “I think I sprained my ankle.”

Scooping her up effortlessly, Rumpelstiltskin carried her to the table, propped her up on it and kicked the damned stool closer so he could sit on it.

“Let’s see,” he offered calmly, carefully slipping the shoes off her feet. “Which one is it?”

“The left one,” Belle replied and sucked the air in sharply when he raised her left foot and placed it into his lap.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promised, “but I need to have a better look.” With that, he unceremoniously raised her skirts up, reaching to unclasp the fastening of her garter belt and rolled the thin white stocking down her leg. There was nothing sexual or playful in it, his movements being precise and business-like. Her ankle looked ordinary with no swelling or redness showing yet. Rumpelstiltskin closed his hands around it, barely applying any pressure, and Belle felt a rush of warmth pooling in her leg as his magic healed her.

“Does it still hurt?” He slowly rotated her foot this and that way, making sure there was no other damage and that she’d be able to walk normally. The girl bit down on her lip, bracing herself up for the pain, but there was none.

“No, it doesn’t,” she sounded half-surprised, even after all the books she read on magic, she still could be amazed by displays of it. “Thank you.”

The man didn’t reply, but his hands didn’t release her foot, rubbing it between his palms. The touch was gentle yet firm and it felt unexpectedly pleasant. He looked up, meeting her eyes as his hands travelled higher, stroking her ankle and calf. Belle was suddenly aware that she was quite exposed, but she made no move to pull her skirt down and cover herself. He did not touch her above her knee, but her breathing had already become quicker and more shallow with anticipation, the familiar heat of the desire pooling in her lower belly.

His hands kept massaging her calf, his thumbs moving in lazy circles, rubbing and soothing the flesh and Belle couldn’t help squirming on the table. He clenched his fingers into a fist and rolled it on the arch on her foot firmly, smirking smugly at her sighs of pleasure. She felt his warm lips on her knee and moving up her hip, as he let go of her left foot, placing it back onto his crotch against his growing hardness and reached for her right leg, repeating the same thing to her still stocking-clad foot.

He did not seem to be in a rush despite his cock being semi-hard and straining against the leather of his pants. Belle wriggled the toes of her left foot against the bulge and giggled as he swallowed noisily.

“May I?” Rumpelstiltskin asked, looking up at her and the girl nodded. She wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking permission for, but she trusted him completely. His hands slid along her thigh, pulling her skirt up higher. His fingertips danced over the top of her stocking, where the soft fabric met the skin. She could almost feel his appreciative gaze on her, as if looking was yet another caress. He did not remove the piece of clothing right away, choosing to hook his fingers under the rim of it after he freed it from the garter. Belle gasped as he kissed her thigh just on top of the stocking. Rumpelstiltskin rolled the stocking down a little, kissing the exposed skin as his lips made their way down her leg. By the time he reached her ankle, he had Belle whimpering above him, hot and impatient to be touched elsewhere, parting her thighs slightly but he ignored it. Slipping the stocking off and tossing it onto the floor, Rumpelstiltskin kissed down the top of her foot and to her toes. With one hand wrapped around her foot, he raised it higher and before Belle could realize what he was doing, his mouth closed around her big toe. She gasped and tried to snatch her foot back, but he held her firmly.

His tongue circled around the pad of her toe and he sucked on it gently. It was wrong, _gods_ , he was all but worshipping her, kissing her legs and feet. Belle meant to tell him to stop but she couldn’t hold back a moan, the silky wetness of his mouth strangely exciting. It wasn’t as intense as when he used his mouth on her breasts, but the sensation still made her shiver with pleasure. His wicked tongue licked between her toes, making the girl squirm, she both wanted that weird caress to stop and to continue. Rumpelstiltskin seemed to be quite content with what he was doing, groaning as he sucked on each of her toes and bit down on them gently.

He moved his mouth higher along her leg, the kisses now followed by his tongue, drawing patterns of her skin and blowing warm air on the wet trails he left. His hands pushed her legs further aside, stroking along her hip joints as he nibbled on her inner thighs. Belle made a frustrated little noise when he stopped and looked at her, his eyes darker than usual.

“I… I want to try something, darling,” his voice was rasp with the worry creeping in it. “I want to use my mouth on you, to please you, if you’ll let me”.

Belle frowned at that, puzzled by his choice of words. Of course he pleased her with his mouth, when he kissed her but he never asked if he could do it before. Then it dawned on her. _Oh_. With him sitting between her legs, he wasn’t asking for permission to kiss her lips, he was talking about kissing her _there_. The idea seemed insane, why would he want to use his mouth on her down there, that was…obscene. Belle felt quite vulnerable as they were, her so exposed in the broad daylight. But he was always so unsure of himself, as if he still thought she might push him back when he tried to touch her. He seldom asked anything of her and he certainly would never plead to do something if he knew she’d not enjoy it. If he wanted to do this indecent act, she’d bear it. Rumpelstiltskin was looking at her expectantly, already regretting he had suggested it but his face lit up at her reassuring nod.

His fingers stroked her through the cotton of her knickers and he growled in appreciation, finding that her wetness soaked into the fabric. Belle moaned as he teased her through her underwear, the pressure and the rough texture of the fabric making her body respond in the most delicious way. His fingers hooked in the crotch of her panties, pushing them aside and out of the way. And then his face was there and Belle tensed up, not sure if she was comfortable enough with the idea. His breath ghosted over her nether lips, making her tingle and ache and then his lips pressed against her mound lightly. It was unusual but not unpleasant and she closed her eyes, too shy to keep looking at him.

Belle jerked with surprise as the tip of his tongue flicked across her folds, the sensation strong and tense. She couldn’t decide whether she liked it or not. His tongue repeated the movement, spreading her lower lips, licking between them and this time she moaned. It was definitely… she struggled to find the word to describe it; the feel of his soft tongue stroking and exploring between her legs was beyond incredible. It was sending sparks through her body, melting her and making her toes curl up. Belle spread her thighs wider apart, feeling that if he stopped touching her now, she’d break.

Her moans seemed to encourage him, his licks becoming more confident as his thumb was pressed at her entrance. It was hard to tell where his tongue was on her or whether those were his fingers. Her entire sex was kissed and touched, slippery with a mixture of her juices and his saliva. She cried out as his lips closed around her clit, sucking on it lightly as his tongue repeatedly stroked along its side. Belle’s fingers slipped into his hair almost involuntarily, keeping him in place as the intensity of her pleasure built up rapidly. She was so close, the sensation too exquisite, the need to cum too strong to fight. She screamed as the pleasure rocked her, sudden and mind-blowing, as Rumpelstiltskin kept lapping at her even after her body stopped shaking almost to the point where his licks were too much for her to stand. The climax left her devastated, she didn’t know if she wanted to sob with relief or to laugh. Belle felt weak and at the same more alive than ever.

She tugged at his hair, making him stand up and she crushed her lips against his. She was sure she’d never find the right words to express her gratitude for the immense pleasure he’d given her but she hoped the kiss could convey some of her emotions. There was a trace of her taste on his tongue – salty, musky and sharp, but not entirely revolting. If he didn’t mind it, she could get used to it as well. Rumpelstiltskin’s hands wrapped around her tightly and she was lost in the kiss until his hardness along her inner thigh reminded her that the man did not get his release. Making a mental note to be more considerate in the future, Belle reached down to cup the length of his member through his breeches, giving it a promising squeeze before her hands began working on the lacings. Still not breaking the kiss, she reached inside his pants, her palm clasping around his cock and freeing it from the leather constraints. Belle didn’t bother with any teasing touches and guided it straight to her entrance, wriggling her hips to line up their bodies better.

Rumpelstiltskin pressed forward, sliding in with a groan as her inner walls, tighter after her orgasm, resisted the entry. He did not pause to let her adjust, as he used to do before; instead, he began thrusting, cupping her buttocks and pushing her closer to the edge of the table. She wrapped her hands around his neck for balance, crossing her ankles behind his back. Normally (well, as far as she could judge from the previous several times they did it), he was always considerate and gentle, penetrating her slowly and keeping the pace moderate for a while. But today there was something else in his movements; they were hard and merciless, needy and desperate as he rammed his cock inside her. The burning hunger in his gaze and the erratic movement seemed only to excite her more; there wasn’t enough pressure on her clitoris to make her cum the second time, but just knowing that it was her that made him lose his usual concentration was all the pleasure she wanted. He gritted his teeth, making small groans as he pushed inside her, not breaking his gaze as if her eyes were the only thing that kept him grounded.

His chest was heaving and Belle knew he wouldn’t last; his cock was incredibly hard inside her, his movements jerky and purposeful. He kept his eyes open, looking at her as he buried himself inside her deeply, his hot seed splashing inside, adding to the wetness that had already been there.

Rumpelstiltskin bent down and kissed her, the brush of his lips against hers surprisingly light after the intense coupling. He pulled out of her reluctantly, cleaning them up and straightening their clothes with a wave of his hand. Belle felt too exhausted to attempt to do anything. She patted the spot on the table next to her and Rumpelstiltskin sat on it, following her invitation. She rested her head on his shoulder and he curled his hand around her waist, drawing her closer.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

Belle swatted his hip, her hand making an unexpectedly loud smacking noise against the leather breeches. “You _will_ be sorry if you never do that again,” she promised.

“You won’t break me, Rumpelstiltskin,” she added seriously, her fingers toying with the cords of his shirt. “I really liked how you… what you did. With your mouth. I only wish I were able to satisfy you as well as you do me.”

“Darling, you please me more than you know,” the man confessed, kissing the top of her head. “More than I could ever deserve.”


	32. A Message

The sun was low in the skies, lighting up the lab with warm orange glow when Belle finally began working on the potion. Rumpelstiltskin fetched all the necessary ingredients lining them up in a neat row on the table and had a cauldron perched on a tripod. She felt slightly awkward and blushed a little when she looked at the table – she’d probably never be able to glance at that piece of furniture without remembering what sort of activities took place there – but she told herself to stop acting silly. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t tease her or speak a word of what happened; he merely went back to his books, scribbling on their margins or flipping through the pages. It was oddly comforting, the silence and the cosiness of the room.

Belle shuddered when there was a sharp tapping noise against the glass. She frowned, seeing a raven perched on the window ledge, its dark smooth feathers glistening in the setting sun. The bird repeated the noise, its beak hitting the window none too gently. Rumpelstiltskin let the bird in and it hopped over the frame with a quork; there was a small shred of parchment wrapped around its grey leg and she watched the man’s agile fingers untangle the cord to unroll and straighten the message to read it. Somehow the raven unnerved her; it titled its head sideways, its small shiny eye fixed on her. Belle wasn’t superstitious, she never believed those birds were ominous but she never felt particularly fond of them either.

She was curious but thought it would be impolite to ask. After all, she’d not appreciate anyone reading her private letters. Whatever it was, Rumpelstiltskin was not happy about it. He dismissed the bird with a flick of his hand and returned to his books, but his eyes didn’t follow along the lines; instead he steepled his hands under his chin, and appeared to be deep in thought. He was still pensive during their dinner and they didn’t exchange more than a few words. When it was bedtime, he followed her to his chambers wordlessly and held her in his arms almost absent-mindedly.

Belle sighed and decided not to push. He’d tell her if he wanted to; his moods changed so quickly sometimes that she was concerned she’d anger him for being too nosey. She knew he wasn’t asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily under her cheek as they lay in the dark.

“It was a message from out dear friend Prince Charming,” he finally said, his voice dripping with bile and his body vibrating under her cheek.

“What… what did he want?” Belle asked carefully. She’d nearly forgotten about him. She was so absorbed in her apprenticeship, trying to figure out Rumpelstiltskin, separated from the outer world that it was easy to forget there was something beyond the castle walls. “Does he seek satisfaction for… for our escape?”

The man chuckled humourlessly.

“Even such a dimwit oaf as Charming is smarter than that. Besides, it’s been over two months. Pursuing me with such a delay would seem rather strange, don’t you think? If that was what he wanted, he’d come to the Castle, but he knows making all that fuss over me getting out of the dungeon is not worth it.” She could almost hear him grin darkly above her. “And the princeling damn well knows he’s no match for me in a fight.”

Belle winced at those words; she didn’t like to be reminded that the man she felt so attached to was not as gentle and considerate with everyone.

“What did he write to you about then?”

Rumpelstiltskin paused, raking his fingers through her curly hair.

“Queen Snow White is… unwell,” he said gravely. “She is heavy with child but her condition is worsening and the healers cannot assist her.” His body tensed a little.

“Charming wants me to help her and he’s willing to pay any price for it. If words in ink could convey emotions, I think the accurate one would be desperation.” His long fingers moved to the back of her neck, massaging and stroking and Belle couldn’t hold back a sigh of pleasure. “I think Regina finally got to the queen, after all,” he confessed.

She wrinkled her nose at the name; that vile woman again. No good would come from anything where she was involved.

“Are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted sincerely. “Personally, I couldn’t care less about Charming’s wife or offspring, but the idea of Regina occupying the throne in case of Snow’s demise is… unsettling.”

Despite the fact that long ago he was training her to do just that, he didn’t wish to see Regina ruling. She was destructive, guided by greed and often blinded by anger. She wasn’t a threat to him now, but she could turn into it with that power – and collected magic – of the kingdom.

“I think you should.” Belle was uncertain whether he was just sharing his thoughts or asking her for advice. He didn’t sound hesitant and she didn’t attempt to affect his decision, but she was used to speaking her mind freely and, well, that’s how conversation was to be made, by offering one’s ideas.

“I didn’t know you were so fond of the royal family,” he teased and she smiled, feeling at ease that he didn’t chide her for her words, that he saw her as an equal.

“I’m not, but you could help and… it’s a nice thing to do.”

“Nice,” he sniggered. “The Dark One doesn’t do _nice_.”

“What does the Dark One do then?” she asked playfully, trying to distract him. She felt bad for Queen Snow White, but she didn’t want the man to spend the whole night brooding over it. It was selfish of her, but she felt cosy and warm under the sheets and she didn’t want him to think of anyone else when she was pressed against him. Belle decided not to dwell on where this new possessiveness had come from or what it could evolve into.

“He steals the maids from their keeps or, sometimes the dungeons,” Rumpelstiltskin whispered dramatically, leaning down so that the warm puff of his breath was coming against her ear. “And brings them to his castle.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, not certain if it was another quip of his or if he was being serious. “How many have there been?”

“What?” he sounded taken aback, as if that question startled him.

“The maidens,” Belle explained. “And what does the Dark One do with them? Makes them clean the Castle? Uses their blood for potions? Corrupts them?” It was hard to keep her voice serious when she was making such silly suggestions. He made a tsk noise of irritation.

“Not quite. I think there is one particular lassie who tries to corrupt _the Dark One_ ,” he replied, ignoring the first part of her question. “And wants to see him do _nice_ things.”


	33. A Ring

“I will leave today,” Rumpelstiltskin spoke softly, eyes fixed on her over a tea cup, “to pay a visit to our dear Prince.”

“You are going to help them,” she tried to contain her smile but couldn’t. The man scowled at her.

“Do not mistake it for me being _nice_ , it’s just an interesting deal.”

Belle knew that he’d never admit it and she didn’t try to convince him otherwise. No matter what he said, it was a good thing, choosing to help instead of remaining idle.

“Come here, sweetheart,” he beckoned and she blushed at the endearment – would she ever get used to those? - and the warmth in his voice when he spoke it.

Rumpelstiltskin opened his hand, revealing a thin gold band of a ring with a large oval sapphire. The gem was dark in the centre, where the colour seemed to curl and shift within. Belle raised it to her eyes, studying the edges and turning it to the side to marvel at how it reflected the light.

“It’s beautiful,” she said delightfully.

“May I?” he snatched the ring from her palm without waiting for her reply and carefully pushed it on the index finger of her right hand. It felt heavy on her hand, something she’d need to get accustomed to but it fit her perfectly, tight enough not to slip off but not uncomfortably so.

“Belle,” he said seriously, tugging on her hand till she lowered herself on his knee. She used to sit on her father’s lap as a baby girl while he rocked her, but she was no longer a child and felt a little silly being perched on Rumpelstiltskin’s knee. He seemed to like it when she did, so Belle didn’t object, enjoying the closeness. He looked at her, making sure she understood him clearly.

“I will not command you to stay inside the Castle, but the wards will be weaker when I am away. Make sure you do wear the ring if you choose to be outdoors, it will provide protection against anyone who means harm.”

She simply nodded; he really didn’t have to worry about her so much. Rumpelstiltskin sighed, leaning against her shoulder. He didn’t want to leave, he couldn’t explain the nagging anxiety deep in his chest. It was a quick deal and he’d be back in no time. It would take him longer to arrange the terms than to cure the Queen.

“Do you want me to bring you anything back?” he asked. “A gown? A piece of jewellery? A book?”

“Your library is large enough to last me through several lifetimes,” she laughed. “I do not need anything. Just… return sooner.” Belle cupped his face between her palms and pressed a quick dry kiss to his lips.

“Alright then!” he was back on his feet quickly, suddenly full of giddy energy. He lowered her onto the floor and gave her a graceful bow.

“Milady, try not to shatter my laboratory in pieces while I am away.”

Belle rolled her eyes at him. Really, did he have to bring that incident up?

“I won’t,” she promised.

“Rumpelstiltskin?” she called when he was near the door. He stopped but didn’t turn to her. “I’ll be waiting for you,” his shoulders stiffened at those words and he strode away.

***

Perhaps it was only her imagination, but the air in the Castle changed with his departure. It was almost imperceptible, but the silence of the mansion was now imposing. Being by herself while knowing that Rumpelstiltskin was out there, in his lab or at the spinning wheel never made her feel so… lonely.

Belle checked on her potion, which was simmering and bubbling quietly. She stirred it carefully, three times clockwise and five times in the opposite direction, satisfied as its colour changed to a deeper pink just like the book said. She picked up a book, positioning herself on a window ledge of the library, but the story didn’t capture her as it usually would. Belle sighed and snapped the volume shut. He’d been gone for less than two hours and she already longed to see him back. That wouldn’t do.

Perhaps she just needed to occupy her hands with some task. It was bright outside and quite warm looking, so she went to her room to change into something more suitable for her gardening work – a pair of plain linen pants and a matching simple cut shirt, its only decoration being a chain of buttons on the side – before heading to the greenhouse. The clothes were light and she was sure they’d be stained by grass and soil after she was done, but Belle preferred dirtying this outfit rather than one of her dresses.

She did follow Rumpelstiltskin’s suggestion and planted rose seeds in the pots stored in the greenhouse, making sure to water them properly every day. Either due to her care or to magic – she did try to speed up their growth, alas with no apparent result – the tender green sprouts were peeking from the soil enthusiastically and she thought it was the right time to plant them.

She just finished packing down the soil around the first future rosebush with her hands when she was startled by a deep voice.

“Hello there, little bird,” a stranger called and Belle turned abruptly, rising to her feet. It was a man, dressed in a dark leather costume and a cape around his shoulders. There was a sparse thin line of a moustache and a beard around his mouth and he ran a hand through his long greasy hair, slicking it back.

“Good day to you, sir,” she replied cautiously, aware that she left the ring on the bedside table when she changed. It made a cold sweat run down her spine. She knew she shouldn’t have done it but she didn’t intend to go beyond the castle grounds and the ring was new, she didn’t want compost to get on it. Maybe she didn’t need to worry, perhaps the man was looking for Rumpelstiltskin to make a deal and meant her no harm; she’d tell him the sorcerer was away and the man would leave.

“Are you the Dark One’s gardener?” He cocked his head to the side, his deep-set eyes studying her.

“No.” Belle didn’t want to tell him the truth, it was none of his concern; there was something unpleasant about the man and her mind raced, trying to find a way to free herself from his presence.

“Yes, I suppose the old lizard has nothing to do with a pretty little bird like you,” the man eyed her chest pointedly until slipping his gaze down to her legs. She almost gasped at his boldness, how _dare_ he look at her like she was a piece of meat on display or some tavern wench whose body he wanted to appraise before buying her company.

“Does he have a magic leash on you so that you can’t escape?”

“What? No!”

“A spell then. That prevents you from leaving.” He smiled as if the idea of her being held captive was rather amusing.

“Sir, I am terribly sorry,” she began, her voice barely containing her anger and indicating she was, in fact, not a bit sorry, “but I do not think I may be of assistance to you. If you came to see Rumpelstiltskin, I shall go to the Castle to fetch him for you and…” She was lying but once she was indoors, she’d be protected; she just needed an excuse to go there without raising his suspicions.

“Oh, call me Sheriff, pet,” he smiled moving closer and Belle took a step back instinctively. “And I know you’re lying; the Imp is not in his Castle.”

“Then what do you want?” she demanded, trying to sound brave. She turned sideways to him, intending to leave. His hand darted out to grasp her and he bent her arm behind her back to clasp the shackles around her wrists and making her hiss with pain upon the rough treatment.

“I was asked for a specific delivery,” he pulled on her hair, tilting her head back uncomfortably. His face almost touched her cheek as he spoke and Belle wrinkled her nose in disgust. He smelled of sweat and his breath reeked of alcohol and pipe smoke. “You, birdie. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

He stuffed a dirty handkerchief in her mouth, muffling her words. She tried to get out of his grasp, to run to the Castle doors, gods, why didn’t she just run when he started talking to her, but he held her tight. The man let go of her hair and raised her restrained arms higher, making her wince at the burning it caused in her shoulder joints.

“Now, now. I was requested to bring you, but I’ve never promised to bring you _unhurt_ ,” his voice was amused as if causing pain was something he enjoyed. “Keep on kicking and I’ll break your arm.” Belle stopped thrashing, knowing that he would do it.

“Good. Since we’re clear, would you just follow me?”

The man wrapped her hair back around his fist and led her away from the castle. With a grunt he lifted her and put her face down across his mare, tying her legs before mounting the horse himself.

Belle felt sick from the foul taste of the cloth in her mouth and the steady rocking of the horse beneath her. Her fingers were turning numb, but at least that allowed her not to feel the pain from the metal cuffs digging into her skin. Where was he taking her? The man said he was requested to bring her to someone, but who would ever need her?

She felt tears stinging her eyes and blinked them away quickly. She was not going to cry over the unknown. Whatever lay in front of her, she’d brace herself and face it. Rumpelstiltskin wouldn’t just give up. He’d find her, of course he would.


	34. Separated

Rumpelstiltskin frowned, running his hand over Snow White’s body and studying the tingling of the magic against his palm. He was stricken by how exhausted she looked – sunken cheeks, grey hue of her skin and misty eyes too large for her tired face. It was as if she was clinging to life with the sheer force of her will.

It wasn’t a curse after all. It was a poison eating her from within. Regina lacked finesse; she enjoyed inflicting pain and suffering, often acting bluntly. Charming had called him just in time; the antidote was simple but it required some precious and rare ingredients. Not that the price mattered. Rumpelstiltskin fetched the ingredients in the blink of an eye. It was always convenient knowing the right traders, and trading the brewed concoction for an official pardon for Belle (in case she ever stumbled upon an over-suspicious soldier) and a future favour from the prince who was all too eager to agree on those terms. It was short-sighted of him, but people in love had a tendency to lose their ability to think. Not that Charming had ever had enough of that originally.

The prince was so relieved to see the colour return to his wife’s face after she drank the potion he even shook Rumpelstiltskin’s hand with words of sincere gratitude. The sorcerer wiped his hand on his coat after that to erase the royal touch; truly, it was unnecessary, his job there was done and he did not need any of that disgusting… sentiment.

The Castle greeted him with silence. Belle wasn’t in the dining room nor was she in the library. Rumpelstiltskin checked the laboratory, frowning at the foul smell of the spoiled potion – it wasn’t tended to in time and curled into thick clogs - and the kitchen; she wasn’t there either. The worry clawed at his heart and his pulse quickened. Surely, she must be in her room. She didn’t just _leave_ him, it was impossible.

Her chambers were empty and his heart sank when he saw the ring he gave her yesterday glistening on the bedside table. He grabbed the thing and clenched it in his fist, willing himself to calm down before his concern turned into a full-blown panic.

Nothing indicated that the girl planned to leave. She had no reason to, he simply refused to believe she could look at him openly while plotting an escape. Her things where lying around the place – her clothes, her books, a hairbrush, her shoes still in the wardrobe. She had enough common sense not to depart without at least her cloak.

Belle could still be on the Castle grounds though. He closed his eyes, concentrating on his breathing. In a bid to compose himself, he slowly inhaled through his nose then exhaled the same way. When his mind cleared a bit, Rumpelstiltskin reached out with his magic, scanning the rooms of the Castle and the surrounding territory. He could not detect her. He checked the wards – they indicated that someone did pass through them but it wasn’t a magical creature or anyone particularly strong to break them.

He walked to his lab briskly, the quick steps echoing in the empty hall and pulled a drawer out of his table. Belle could go to the village; she mentioned she didn’t like the people there but it didn’t make it impossible for her to visit the market.

Where the hell was it? Rumpelstiltskin grabbed the drawer and turned it upside down, spilling the contents on the table top and swishing the papers around, until he found what he was looking for. He grabbed the mirror in his left hand raised it to his eye level. It was rather small, the frame made of darkened silver; the thing looked old but ordinary.

“Show me Belle,” he ordered clearly and his reflection blinked before thick grey smoke swirled under the surface and the frame lit up with a faint green glow. Yet nothing else happened. The smoke curled into eerie shapes but then disappeared, leaving the glass grey and non-transparent. Rumpelstiltskin put the useless thing back onto the table, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

If the mirror failed to show him Belle, it meant two things. Either someone was blocking his magic or the girl was… No, he absolutely refused to accept the second option. If she was dead – and she was _not,_ she couldn’t be – he’d wipe the whole kingdom off the ground, he’d incinerate the guilty one on the spot, or even better, he’d torture him and heal him back to strip his flesh off his bones over and over, he would…

But if someone was indeed preventing him from seeing her… It definitely wasn’t fairy magic, he’d be able to sense it at once. Other than that…Well, he knew only one person who liked playing around with mirrors and was strong enough to block him out. It couldn’t be a plain coincidence that this happened while he was away, attending to Queen Snow, mending the damage his former apprentice had caused.

He practically ran down the stairs to the living room, hopping over two steps at a time. He approached the full-height mirror in the corner and stripped the obscuring fabric off.

“Regina!” he bellowed, a few drops of his spittle landing on the smooth surface. “Regina!!!”

The mirror rippled before the woman presented herself. He could only see her face and the top of her shoulders, her own mirror probably a lot smaller in size. Her make-up was impeccable, although too bright and she was wearing a blue dress with a sparkling diamond necklace accentuating the low-cut.

“Rumple,” she drawled with a lazy smile as if she expected him. “What a pleasant… surprise.”

Her words indicated that his call came as no surprise to her. Rumpelstiltskin wished he could reach out for the witch and just close his fingers around her throat.

“Where is she,” he snarled. He knew he shouldn’t allow his temper to show, to let Regina realize how much it affected him, to give her the satisfaction of finally getting under his skin.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” her smile widened even further and her voice became more honeyed. “Lost something, haven’t you?”

“You evil soul!” he exclaimed and threw the ring he was still clutching at the mirror with all his force. It cracked the glass over Regina’s brow and she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“No need to be so rude, Rumple. If you want to talk, you can contact me when you calm down and…” she turned her face away, intending to leave.

“Stay right where you are!” Rumpelstiltskin shouted, jabbing a finger at the Evil Queen’s reflection. “You _will_ tell me where she is or I will…”

“You will what, Rumple? Threatening me will not get you what you want.”

Regina dropped the pretence of being ignorant of the subject. She tried to remain calm, but her eyes narrowed and he knew she was afraid. He was the one to teach her magic, after all. Regina may not fully know what he was capable of, but what she knew better was not to provoke him any further.

“Alright, I just _might_ know where your current favourite toy girl is,” Regina confessed, her tone back to cooing. He frowned at the way she referred to Belle but did not correct her.

“You have no business with her.”

“No, but since you’ve been so reluctant to deal with me lately, I though you required an… incentive.”

Incentive, right. Kidnapping the girl was a bloody _incentive_ to make him speak to her and coax him into the right mood for deals.

“Release her and we can discuss whatever you want,” Rumpelstiltskin felt suddenly calm. The situation was bad, but he could manage Regina. She thought herself to be, by far, more clever than she actually was. She admitted to having Belle and she’d not harm her now that he knew about it. Finding the girl was a question of time and maybe he could be patient. It didn’t mean he’d not make the witch pay dearly though.

“Do you take me for a complete fool, Rumple?” she laughed but her eyes remained cold. “No, the girl stays where she is.”

“What do you want, Regina?” he asked tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Gods, let it be over with quickly. “Help you with Snow White? Fine, you said you needed a curse for her…”

“Oh, I’ve dealt with Snow White,” she replied smugly. “She’s no longer in my way.”

So she didn’t know he’d healed the Queen and still considered her to be on her death bed. Well, that was something.

“I need True Love.”

“Flattered, dearie, but not interested,” Rumpelstiltskin replied giving her a mocking bow of his head when she scowled at his quip. “Or do you mistake me for a match-maker? Did you get bored of your huntsman already?”

“I had to dispose of him. He proved to be too free-spirited.” Disposal was a kind word for what his fate was truly like, but Regina didn’t seem to feel any regret for killing him.

“You can find yourself a fairy who’d be only too eager to provide you with an excellent male specimen, I’m sure.” His voice was acidy and her cheeks flushed a little at the taunting.

“Very funny, Rumple. No, I need to return something that was… lost.” He raised his eyebrows as she went on. “I want you to revive Daniel.”

“The filthy stable boy you had a crush on?” She touted at him. It was a cheap move, but if she called Belle his toy he could damn well call her ex-lover anything he desired. “We’ve had this conversation before, dearie. It cannot be undone. Resurrecting the dead is beyond my power, Regina.”

“He’s not dead!” she argued hotly but quickly regained her composure. “My dear _mother_ took his heart.” She made the word mother sound obscene.

Yes, he knew he did a good job on her. Regina, once so shy and kind, afraid to raise her voice at anyone turned into this: vicious, cold, unfeeling. Well, not entirely true. She did feel but those were only negative emotions. She still held onto her past, but again, in some ways, so did he. There was a hole in her heart, an emptiness that made her desperate, made her search for something to fill it and she believed it was vengeance. But now, it seemed, she’d changed her mind.

“And I’ve heard that you managed to create the potion, to extract True Love that could return what was lost.”

Ah, so that’s what it all was about. She hoped to spin the clock back to when she was happy, when she could truly feel something good. She believed she could be reunited with her girl crush and finally feel whole. Rumpelstiltskin ran his index finger along his upper lip.

“Perhaps I did, perhaps I did not.” Regina’s puppet genie had probably told her about the potion. It took him decades of careful research and hundreds of unsuccessful experiments but he did unite two contradicting natures, creating little amounts of a half-liquid, half-gas essence that was love.

“What if it doesn’t work?” he said slowly, but he knew Regina wouldn’t listen to his reasoning. He created her, he made her into what she was now and she’d not hold back on anything.

“Then I’ll find something else. Bring me the potion and you can have your girl back.”

She broke the connection and he found himself staring at his own reflection - wild hair, reptilian oddly large eyes and his scrawny shape. What could Belle ever see in him? He covered the mirror, not bothering to fix the crack in it.

If all Regina required was the bloody True Love potion, he’d give it to her gladly; it was a small price to pay for Belle’s safety and freedom.

The only problem was that the above concoction was safely hidden inside the belly of a dragon.


	35. Alliance

The idea of putting the potion vial into a metal egg and requesting it to be hidden inside the beast seemed quite amusing to him at the time. He was so proud of himself for thinking of it, giggling and practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, barely being able to contain his zealous excitement. He bargained with Prince Charming to do the dirty work for himand the sorcerer was sure it was done just as he requested. The noble fool knew how to keep his word, claiming he had honour. More like predictability – just pull on the strings, play on those feelings of honour and pride and the man would come running to you.

Now though he wished he had thought of a different hiding place. Maleficent wasn’t a particularly strong witch in human form, but as a dragon she was practically indestructible, at least by magic – her thick hide could not be pierced or affected by a spell. She inherited the gift of transformation from her mother, and when she changed, the collected power of her family, strengthened by the natural powers of the dragons provided impeccable protection.

Rumpelstiltskin played around with the idea of merely convincing the witch to return the egg to him and then part ways, but there was a very slight chance of it. Dragons liked goldand he could spin her a mountain of it if that was what Maleficent wanted, yet his hunch told him it would not work. She’d never been agreeable or pleasantand she spent too much time alone, slowly intoxicating herself with dark magic and vile thoughts until she became half-insane. She had moments of clarity though, but they occurred rarely now; her days were spent in her dragon form, curled in her castle and guarding her treasures.

Besides, he needed to know exactly what Charming did with the egg. How do you make a bloody dragon _swallow_ something like that? Perhaps the princeling just left it there, among the endless chests of gold, just another sparkling trinket. No use guessing, he just needed to find out for himself.

***

Rumpelstiltskin found the man in his council room, bent over a map of the kingdoms.

“Strange, how one can go from being a shepherd to a prince,” he called softlyand Charming jerked his head up, staring at the sorcerer with his greyish-blue eyes.

“The Dark One?” he asked dumbly as if there could be any mistake as to who he was seeing. “How… how did you get in here?”

“The door wasn’t locked,” Rumpelstiltskin shrugged. “Not for me, at least.”

“Are you here to check on Snow?” Charming frowned; apparently thinking caused him discomfort. “She fairs well and…”

“This is not a social visitand I care very little about your queen,” Rumpelstiltskin approached the man and ran his fingers along the hollow of the table that was painted sky-blue, resembling a river. He rubbed his fingers together.

“Dusty in here. Have you ever considered cleaning up? No matter. I’ve arrived to collect what’s due. If I remember clearly, you do owe me a favour,” he gestured constantly as he spoke, his hands rising and falling theatrically.

Charming frowned but made no objection.

“Good!” Rumpelstiltskin giggled, unable to contain his excitement, clasping his hands together and putting them under his chin. It turned out better than planned, he didn’t even need to manipulate the guy. “We can leave whenever you’re ready. That is, _now_.”

“Wait, what? Leave where? What do you require of me?”

The sorcerer clicked his tongue impatiently.

“I need your expertise in dealing with certain creatures,” he waved his hand, making it sound like something unimportant, as if he was talking about a dog he wanted to get a piece of advice on and not a gigantic fire-breathing dragon. “Do you remember the metal egg I bid you to put away? Good. Now, I need it backand you will help me.”

“I cannot leave now! Snow’s just recovered and…”

“Yes, yes, that’s all very interesting,” Rumpelstiltskin interrupted him, wiggling a finger in the Prince’s direction, “but I didn’t _ask_ you if you could leave now, do keep up. We are goingand this is final; surely you don’t want to find out what happens if you attempt to break a magic contract that binds us?”

“Look, I…” Charming ran his hand through his short straw hair. “How am I supposed to retrieve that egg? Why can’t you do it yourself?”

“Let’s say, I need… a hero.” _Or someone stupid enough to walk into the dragon’s lair willingly_. “You did manage it the first time, surely you’ll find your way around it again. Now, come.”

“Ah-Alright, I guess. But if I am to risk my life, at least I want to know _why_.”

Rumpelstiltskin groaned. Damn the regal man and his curiosity. It was a fair question, of course, but they were standing here wasting time onconversation instead of _doing_ something.

“I need it to return someone who was taken away,” he admitted reluctantly; that much information should be enough to satisfy Charming, yet remain relatively impersonal.

“Someone? Like in another human being?” Rumpelstiltskin actually rolled his eyes at that. “But how… I mean, I’d never imagine you _cared_ about anyone but yourself.”

The word _cared_ was a large understatement, but it wasn’t the time and place to sort out his feelings for Belle. Charming regarded him with some mixture of awe and admiration.

“Yes,” the sorcerer said softly, his voice even but tinted withwarmth that only she could bring out in him. “I do care about her.”

The Prince’s eyes scanned the man appraisingly for several momentsand he nodded swiftly, making up his mind.

“Give me time to say farewell to Snow.” _Sentimental fool._

“Oh, dearie, do not make it into a drama, I assure you it won’t be a suicide mission.” _At least not for me_ hung in the air, unspoken.

“Besides, imagine all the glory you’ll cover yourself with,” Rumpelstiltskin swiped his hand in a broad arc, as if it’d help the prince to picture the benefits of his victory. “Princess Aurora will be most grateful. If she ever wakes up, that is.”

He turned and headed to the door, Charming following him closely. “I’ve conjured this magic portal, which will take us right to Maleficent’s Castle.” The footsteps behind him stoppedand Rumpelstiltskin turned around on his heels with a snarl. “Now what?”

“I’m not going through the portal,” Charming said stubbornly. “I do not trust magic.”

The sorcerer scowled. Travelling on horseback meant it’d take them at least half a day to reach their destination. He shot a stark look at Charming ( _what an idiot_ ), who stood with his arms crossed, lips pursed into a thin line and determination across his broad face; it was no use arguing about their means of travel.

“Fine,” he sighed and the prince grinned at him triumphantly. “Let it be your way this time.”

***

Rumpelstiltskin held his horse and jumped to the ground, leaning against a nearby tree when they entered the Castle grounds. The Prince gave him a quizzical look.

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“Oh no, I’d much rather not pay lovely Maleficent a visit,” he chose to give the Prince one of his darkest smiles. “From here, you’re on your own, dearie.”

Charming shrugged but didn’t seem to be too bothered by it. Rumpelstiltskin relaxed a little when the man was out of sight, his shoulders dropping. He no longer needed to play the giddy and childish Dark One. The forest was quiet around him; in fact, it was too quiet – no birds or buzzing of bugs. The trees were gnarly and looked burntand there was no grass or moss growing on the parched soil.

The silence was broken by an angry earth-shuddering roar – Charming must have gotten to the dragon lady. The horse was terrified by it and galloped away from the source of the noise; he didn’t fancy the idea of chasing the frightened animal through the woods so he let it go. As time passed, Rumpelstiltskin began to wonder if he had miscalculated. If Charming failed, he’d have to find someone else or come up with another plan. But delay meant that Regina, who’d never been particularly patient, could do something to Belle.

Just when he was about to consider slipping into the Castle to check on the Prince, he spotted the man walking towards him with his horse following close. Charming looked… well… not too regal now. He was covered with sweat and his cloak was burnt in several places. His face was splattered with something dark and the man dragged his sword in his hand, the tip of the blade scraping the ground, as if the weapon was too heavy for him to lift. He did carry an egg in his left hand; the Prince threw the thing at him when he came close enoughand Rumpelstiltskin caught it, wincing as his fingers touched its slimy surface.

The egg was cold and slippery, covered with a gooey substance and shreds of something the sorcerer definitely did not want to identify. Other than that, it seemed intact. Rumpelstiltskin could simply take the potion out of it and leavebut he decided he’d enjoy some twisted pleasure by seeing Regina’s face when she touched the repulsive object. He produced a bag from the inner pocket of his cloak and carefully placed the egg within.

“Did you get everything you wanted?” Charming’s voice was tired and husky; well, one cannot expect a man to actually sound happy and cheerful upon surviving an uneven fight with a dragon.

“Actually, no,” Rumpelstiltskin rolled from toe to heel. “I need your horse.”

“What? Why?” Charming’s eyebrows shot up so high they almost blurred with his hair and his mouth fell slightly ajar.

“You slayed the dragon, now it’s time for me to save the girl.” He wasn’t about to lecture the Prince on how Regina’s wards worked; they were set to prevent anyone with strong magic, dark or light, from entering the grounds. The spell was designed to keep her mother away; but as a creator of the enchantment, Rumpelstiltskin knew a way around it. He needed to cast the counter-spell when he was close enough to her castleand while he didn’t prefer horse riding, it was a perfect opportunity to humiliate Charming.

“But how am I going to get back?” he asked, watching Rumpelstiltskin jump into the saddle with practiced ease.

“Well, I could always send you through the portal,” the sorcerer drawled smugly, “but knowing your mistrust towards magic… I’d say on foot, perhaps?”

The look on Charming’s face was quite precious, really.

“You could at least say thank you!” he shouted at his back, but Rumpelstiltskin paid him no mind. He spurred the horse, sending it into a quick trot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if i hurt your 'Charming' feelings - Rumple was pissed and he wasn't about to say please.  
> Also, i hope you're not too disappointed by not seeing the dragon fight


	36. A Friendly Warning

Regina’s castle loomed over him and Rumpelstiltskin suddenly felt uneasy. He hoped the woman would keep her word and not come up with some other impossible request. He actually felt pity for passing one of his most precious creations to her; True Love’s essence probably held more power than he imagined and it was very unlikely that he’d be able to create more of the potion soon. He’d always liked collecting things, bargaining for them or creating them to be stored away. Yet the regret of parting with the potion was more of the one he knew he should feel than actually experience. It was just a piece of magic. It was nothing compared to the chance of having Belle at his side.

His heart fluttered and warmed unexpectedly at the idea of having the girl near once again. He knew she was his weakness and that someone would sooner or later use that. Most of his human life he lived in fear and now, centuries later he felt the fright again, because he had something to lose. But Rumpelstiltskin realized that given the chance to go back, he’d not alter a thing – well, except for their fighting when he brought her for the first time to his Castle – he swore to himself he needed to watch out for her more, but he’d never give up being with Belle as long as she wanted him too.

The air crackled with magic and Rumpelstiltskin reached out, grasping the invisible thread of the spell, tugging and twisting it until he could disentangle the protective net to enter the grounds. He walked towards the Castle briskly, scanning it with his magic. He could feel the large pulsing clot of Regina’s aura, and small, weaker ones of her servants moving around the mansion, but there was no trace of Belle. He frowned but didn’t stop, heading towards the throne room.

Regina was, of course, sitting on the throne – now only a self-proclaimed queen, he mused – her back perfectly straight and her hair pinned up in a sophisticated style. She rose to greet him and showed her perfectly white teeth in a smile. She stuck her glove-clad hand out but quickly dropped it to her side as the man quirked his brow. She didn’t really expect him to kiss her hand, did she?

“Rumple! You got what I asked for so soon?”

“I’m not here to bow and scrape. Tell me where Belle is and let’s be done with it.”

“Very well,” Regina dropped the masquerade of being a courteous host. “I want the True Love potion.”

“Ah-ah, dearie. I need guarantees. We both know what my word is worth, but yours, in turn…” his voice trailed off mockinglyand she gritted her teeth.

Regina called for a servant, ordering him to pass the message to the Sheriff to release their guest.

“There, Rumple, he’ll deliver the girl where he picked her up. Isn’t that nice of me?”

Rumpelstiltskin narrowed his eyes, studying her.

“Still don’t trust me?” Regina pouted. “Fine, is that better proof?”

She walked towards an oval mirror on the wall, her skirts whispering on the floor as she moved and gestured for the man to follow.

“Mirror mirror on the wall, show me what I want to know?” he recited in her ear in a high pitched voice followed by a giggle, feeling how she tensed at his presence. He was her mentor but still, just like most people, she shivered when he was near.

“Truly, you should stop trying to rhyme,” she said, stepping away to allow him to be no closer than at arm-length.

Regina touched the mirror and in a moment its surface revealed an image of a horseman with another person in front of him. It was unmistakably Belle, bent over the horse like a sack of flour, but she looked mostly unharmed, despite being tied up. Rumpelstiltskin’s hands curled up in fistsand he exhaled slowly to calm down. The Evil Queen studied his contorted face smugly, moving back to sit on her throne. _So flatulent_.

“Now, where’s my share?” she made it sound like an order but he didn’t bother to correct her.

Rumpelstiltskin approached her and retrieved the egg from the bag he was holding, dropping it onto her lap.

“What is it?” Regina asked, placing her palm onto its surface and leaning over to have a better look.

“Oh, I imagine those to be the intestines and their contents of your dear friend Maleficent,” he said in his sweetest voice, as if he had never delivered better news.

Regina shrieked and jumped up, the egg rolling onto the floor and cracking open. She shook her hand to get rid off the slime that covered itand he sniggered. Then, remembering that there were more efficient ways, she cleaned her hand and dress with magic.

“You have a foul sense of humour, Rumple,” she spat, leaning down to pick up the small vial nested in the soft cushions inside the metal egg shell. “So this is truly it?” her voice was full of wonder and while there were times he’d feel pleased for impressing her, it only annoyed him now.

“Yes, it is,” he turned around and strode to the chamber’s exit, pausing at the doors to look at her. Regina’s eyes were still fixed on the lilac swirling substance inside the glass and he called her name to draw her attention.

“One more thing. You realize, I’ll never let it just be,” his voice was quiet but it carried through the room, confident and stern. “It means war.”

Her lined eyes narrowed and she grimaced at him.

“Are you threatening me, Rumple?” she meant to sound mocking, but her body went stiff, as if she was a deer who spotted a hunter.

“Oh no, dearie,” Rumpelstiltskin said softly, smiling at her. “Consider it… a friendly warning.”

“I _will_ destroy you,” he muttered, crossing the line of her grounds and disappearing in a swirl of a purple smoke once he was past her wards.

***

The sorcerer reappeared in the middle of a crossroad just before the rider. The horse was immediately spooked, either by the sudden materialization or because the animal could sense the dark energy. It reared up onto its hind legs and Rumpelstiltskin reached high and grabbed its bridle, steadying and calming the animal before it could shake the people off its back.

He studied the horseman, eyes scanning over his crude form and unkempt hair. He knew who the man was.

“Sheriff of Nottingham,” he drawled and the sheriff nodded.

“Imp.”

That was not the name he preferred.

“Would you be so kind as to release your… captive?”

The sheriff dismounted and pulled Belle off the horse, untying her legs and removing the cuffs from her wrists. He pulled the gag out of her mouth and pushed the girl forward.

“There’s your wench, good as new.”

Rumpelstiltskin snarled, seeing that there was a long bruise on her left cheekbone. How dare that moron lay his hand on her? He snapped his fingers and before the sheriff could say anything else, he seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth. Belle turned around to look at the place where the man was standing a moment ago.

“You turned him into a slug!” she whispered, her voice breaking mid-sentence.

“I thought a snail was too good for the scum,” he seemed totally unperplexed by reducing someone to a primitive form.The temptation to step onto and crush the former sheriff was strong, but he resisted, turning to Belle. “Are you alright?” he asked, placing his fingers on her upper arms lightly.

“Yes.” Belle leaned into him, tucking her head under his chin and he held her back carefully in case there were more injuries he couldn’t see.

“Let’s go home then,” Rumpelstiltskin suggested, wrapping his cloak around them and letting his magic wash over their bodies to carry them to the Dark Castle.


	37. Relief

Belle felt dizzy and her vision swam a little when they reappeared in the hall of the Dark Castle.

“How are you feeling?” Rumpelstiltskin’s voice was flat and impersonal all of a sudden, but he looked concerned. “Do you need anything?”

“Some water. Please.”

The man nodded and conjured a golden goblet – really, he was most wasteful, a plain cup would do the job the same – filled with clear water and passed it to her. Belle held it with both hands awkwardly, wincing at the dull ache in her joints when she moved her wrists and pressed the rim to her parched lips. She drank eagerly, the water slightly sweet and blissfully cold on her tongue.

“Thank you,” she said when Rumpelstiltskin made the goblet vanish as effortlessly as he made it appear. His arms returned to the small of her back and he pushed her forward.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To make sure you’re alright,” he replied briefly, although that hardly answered her question. He stopped to give her a quizzical look. “Can you walk? Or should I carry you?”

“No, I can walk,” Belle said quickly. She didn’t fancy the idea of being thrown over his shoulder and carried around. He was in a strange mood, almost _detached_ compared to how worried he seemed in the forest and she decided it was better not to argue.

Rumpelstiltskin led her to the bathroom on the ground floor. He tapped the edge of the tub casually, making it fill with water before turning to the girl and unbuttoning the neat row of fastenings on the side of her shirt.

“What are you?..”

“Be still,” he ordered, slipping the fabric off her shoulders.

His warm fingers travelled along her arms, pressing onto the skin, searching for damage. The man frowned at the caked blood on her wrists, examining the irritated and scratched flesh, but said nothing. He was swift but meticulous, moving behind her to push the hair away and palpating her sides. When he seemed satisfied with the state of her upper body, he pulled her pants and underwear down unceremoniously, helping her step out of the discarded clothing and feeling up her legs just the same way. Belle felt most silly, standing there naked under his attentive glare, but he just make a tsk noise and pushed her hands away when she attempted to cover herself. He didn’t seem to even notice or pay much mind to the fact that she was bare; while at times his eyes would darken with arousal when he looked at her, now it seemed that she was nothing more than a curious ingredient he needed to study.

“Rumpelstiltskin, I’m sorry I…” she didn’t finish the sentence but he nodded and gestured for her to get in the tub.

Picking up a cloth, he dampened it in the water and lathered it with soap, running it over her shoulder and across her chest.

“Look, there’s no need to treat me like an invalid,” Belle protested. “I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself,” she tried snatching the cloth from his hand but he held onto it.

“Hush,” he said sternly and resumed washing her.

She winced as he coaxed her arms into the tub, water stinging on the cuts, but let him carefully clean up the dried blood. He washed her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp as he worked the shampoo into foam. He rinsed and towelled her in the same wordless manner and quickly transferred them both to her room. Belle stumbled and her stomach roiled at the unexpected transportation – gods, they could just come upstairs in the traditional way or he could give her a warning – but he steadied her and reached behind to fetch a white nightgown from under the pillow. Rumpelstiltskin threw it over her head and she wriggled her arms through the sleeves, feeling like she was a child he needed to take care of her.

“Sit, I’ll be right back.”

Belle sat on the bed. It was high for her and her feet dangled in the air. She shifted on the bed further, raising her legs onto it and tucking them under the rim of her nightshirt to keep them somewhat warm.

Rumpelstiltskin returned carrying two strips of fabric and a small glass jar.

“It will be gone by morning,” he said, twisting the lid off it and scooping up some of the thick salve to spread on the inner side of her wrists. The substance was yellow and greasy, smelling sharply of tar, but it would be most selfish of her to complain. His movements were precise and gentle, his fingers gliding over her skin, barely touching it. Whatever this strange mood of his was, it wasn’t anger. He seemed to be deep in thought as if his body did the work on its own.

Rumpelstiltskin repeated it on the other wrist, rubbing the ointment in.

“Keep your hands up,” he instructed, dabbing the remains of the salve along the bruise on her cheekbone.

He picked up the long shred of fabric he brought and wrapped it around her wrist, hooking it around her thumb and ripping the edge of the cotton to tighten and secure it around her hand before mirroring the same on her right wrist.

“Thank you,” Belle said quietly. She knew she should say more, apologize for being so careless, explain that it was just a dumb accident and assure him it’d never happen again. She most certainly never meant for it to happen. She was happy he came to her rescue, of course, but she expected it wasn’t as simple as just ordering the sheriff to let her go. Her kidnapper did bring her to see Regina, who sweetly explained that this _inconvenience_ was, in fact, nothing personal, and that she intended to bargain for something Rumpelstiltskin had. Belle wondered what it was; surely it was no small thing if the woman’s magic could not craft it. She was both relieved and surprised to discover that he complied with Regina’s conditions quickly. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t have to do it – he could come up with another plan or offer a deal that would benefit _him_ instead of the woman. Belle felt that she was the distracting factor and if it wasn’t for her, he’d never agree to play by the rules. He gave away something important to have her back and all she said was a plain thank you.

Rumpelstiltskin waved her gratitude off but didn’t leave the room, looking at her. She felt uneasy but she wanted him to stay; yet did she have the right to ask him for more than he’d already done? She reached for the hairbrush – if she let her hair like that, it’d be a true crow’s nest it the morning – but she held it clumsily, the tight bondage around her wrists restricting her movements and the base of the brush slippery against the cotton fabric. He watched her ungraceful attempts of mastering the hold of the thing before picking it up from her hand.

“Let me,” he offered and Belle turned around.

His fingers parted a section of hair and he held the lock firmly, brushing it midway from where he grasped it to the ends. Although Belle couldn’t see his face, she sensed that he relaxed a bit, as if the air in the room could change depending on his mood. He was still quiet but seemed content as he disentangled her hair, running the brush through it and gradually moving up when the ends were combed. She sighed when he was done and put the brush back onto the bedside table. Rumpelstiltskin gathered her hair and twisted it into a loose braid, making her wonder where he even learned how to do that.

She turned and grasped his hand when he was about to walk away.

“Don’t go.”

She didn’t want to be alone – partially because Belle was afraid to wake up somewhere else, but mostly because being away made her realise she wanted him near. Regina teased her, offering her freedom and protection from the “monster”. While it was true that Rumpelstiltskin and she could never grow close if Belle just stayed with her family, it was hard to imagine her life without him now. He gave her a chance to see past his appearance, to discover how devoted and kind he could be, despite his own perception of himself. Belle wished to tell him how she felt, but she knew it wasn’t the right time yet.

The bed dipped a little under his weight but Rumpelstiltskin refused to get under the sheets. He spooned behind her, tucking his knees behinds hers and carefully placing his hand on her hip over the covers. Belle reached for his fingers with her left hand, interlacing them and brining their joined hands to her chest, half-hugging his arm.

The slight rise and fall of his chest against her back was calming and she closed her eyes.

“I thought I lost you,” his voice was barely audible but her heart throbbed at how tense it sounded.

She squeezed his hand tighter, the simple movement echoing unpleasantly in her wrist.

“You won’t lose me, Rumpelstiltskin,” she promised and he gave an intermittent sigh. It was not up to her to keep that promise, of course. There could be things neither of them could control yet she felt that if it was in her power, they’d never part.


	38. Dark Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Electricboa who offered kind words on my writing and suggested some ideas for the development. I couldn’t do it entirely your way, of course, but you did trigger me (Rumple) into having some dark thoughts.

Sleep avoided him, his mind restless with a rush of thoughts. Was he doing the right thing? For most of his lifeRumpelstiltskin was doing what he wanted or what suited him, there was no question on whether it was right or wrong. It was certainly right to get the girl from Regina’s clutches, but was it fair to keep Belle with him?

He couldn’t help but compare the two women. Regina was wicked because he _made_ her that way, on a whim and just because he could. There were possibilities of using her in the future and he took immense pleasure in bringing out the most vile and sinister what was in her, adding to and cultivating it.

But Belle… Belle was different. However, it seemed he was repeating the same pattern. Regina didn’t start off naturally evil; the closeness to magic did it to her. What if it happened to Belle too? Magic was addictiveand he showed her so little, reluctant of letting her feel its true power. Could she resist if he let her get a true taste? No, most likely not. She’d always approached him first, always the brave onebut she was fooling herself. He wasn’t the knight in shining armour who cared about the common good, despite his being mostly kind to her. He was this world’s reincarnation of everything evil, his own rotten soul absorbing the accumulated experience of all those demons who had been the Dark One before him and it could not leave the girl unaffected.

He could see the scene playing out in his mind – Belle’s heart opening up to the darkness. Moral values are so easy to twist. Would she attempt to kill Snow White if she wasn’t stopped by the royal guards? Yes, Belle’s hand would tremble and shake, but it was one person’s life versus the lives of many; compared to the lives of people she loved. How would she feel if Regina turned her threats into action, burning up the village? Would Belle seek revenge? Would she be willing to pay any price to make the woman suffer?

Why didn’t she ask him again what he intended to do with Cinderella’s child? She didn’t just forget it; she probably didn’t want to imagine what he was capable of. Even back in prison she tried to justify it, to suggest he had some good motive. Could she be blinded by what she willed him to be not to notice what he _was_ like? There was more than just one side to every story and with the right persuasion skills anything could be turned upside down. He knew it; he’d done it, playing with words, manipulating people into concluding deals – magical contracts they didn’t fully understand.

Belle had seen him murder and yes, she cringed at first and couldn’t stand looking at him after, but time had softened the initial shock and she accepted that as a part of his nature. Belle knew he wasn’t forgiving or soft, even if she chose to believe it otherwise when he allowed himself to let his guards a little down with her. Weren’t those the signs of darkness? One little step at a time on the path to corruption.

She went beyond accepting him, she _wanted_ his company even though all he offered was isolation instead of the adventurous life she had dreamt of. She didn’t desire him for his magic, a promise of wealth or a chance at eternal youth – he had no doubt come across women who wanted those things before. But Belle went further; she took him in her bed willingly; he asked for her permission each time and each time she granted it, never once showing a sign of regret. Why did she want him? Because it was forbidden? Because it felt wrong - considering his looks, his reputation, his nature? Did she consider the consequences of such a liaison, of how people would see her as the Dark One’s whore? Did she care or did she simply choose not to dwell on it?

Questions, questions and even more questions. Rumpelstiltskin flattered himself in reading people’s hearts easily, but her heart remained a mystery to him. Was is still pure or would he see little changes blossom day by day, inevitable and irreversible? What if her character shifted – Belle getting a little more daring, more mischievous or becoming slightly vain as her thirst for dark knowledge grew? It always starts little – change of clothing, heightened curiosity and blunted perception of what previously seemed unacceptable. On the other hand, what if she could balance it? Stay true to her ways, seeking the good in him instead of succumbing to evil?

Rumpelstiltskin gave up the idea of having a companion in his life long ago, but if he did have to think of one, it’d be someone entirely different from Belle. He assumed he needed someone wicked, someone who could push his ambitions further and gloat with him, watching him inflict pain, creating chaos and destruction. If Belle didn’t want it, how could they co-exist?

She seemed to want something long-term, she’d indicated that much. But if neither of them could influence the other one, their opposite personalities would collide, like fire and water, extinguishing each other.

All those what-if’s just made it worse. He knew he wanted Belle, but he didn’t know how to make things work. He wasn’t even certain he _should_ make things work, yet again, he’d just be a fool if he didn’t attempt it. Rumpelstiltskin pushed her away oncebut he would not make the same mistake again.

He did possess a gift of being able to tell the future but it wasn’t something he could controland the damned inner eye remained oblivious to everything that had to do with her. He couldn't see the girl coming his way at all, less any possible future they had together... It didn't mean that there was no chance for them to have one. Rumpelstiltskin found that he wanted it rather stronglyand it unnerved him. Belle made him... She made him _feel._ Itwassomething entirely new, something he'd only been capable of feeling towards his lost son and never thought was possible in terms of another human being - immense tenderness and urge to keep that person close, to protect them, to never find them in need for anything, to see them content. The feeling was bitter-sweet, tinted with fear of loss and it made his heart shrink and ache, both wanting express this... affection and holding back. Belle would be kind enough to accept it, but no sane person would believe she could feel any of that towards him.

“Rumpelstiltskin?” her voice was tentative as if she was afraid of waking him up. “Did you go through much trouble to…” she paused, wincing at the idea of saying _to trade for me_ , for after all, she wasn’t a horse to be bought and sold, “…to give Regina what she wanted?”

Did he? On a large scale, he didn’t have to face the dragon or actually do anything; he merely gave up what could be considered the magical work of a lifetime. Nevertheless, he was immortal, so a dozen years spent on bottling True Love didn’t matter.

“No,” he said half-heartedly and of course Belle could sense that.

“Are you… are you angry with me?” she asked hesitantly.

“No,” he repeated more softly. He felt quite a mixture of emotionsbut anger wasn’t among them.

She was quiet for several moments, chewing on her lip.

“Will you make love to me?”

“Belle, I don’t think it’s a good…”

“Please,” she squeezed his hand.

She knew something was wrongbut she couldn’t come up with a way to fix it. She couldn’t simply say she was sorry again – she wasn’t responsible for Regina’s deeds – and just go on, but Belle felt like there was a lack of closenessand she hoped physical touch could make up for it.

She sat up and pulled her nightgown off as the man shifted to remove his own clothing. He coaxed her back into the position they were, Belle on her right side, and climbed under the sheets with her, this time pressing his naked self against her. His body was firm and warmand he simply held her for several moments before his hand travelled along her side. He pressed dry kisses along her shoulder, working his way up to her neck. Rumpelstiltskin’s movements were unhurried, almost lazy as his hands stroked the curve of her hip, long slow brushes of his large rough hand making her sigh.

Belle let out a small _oh_ when his lips parted and he nibbled at the base of her neck, the warm moist pressure of his mouth echoing in her groin. His hand cupped and squeezed her small breast, the sharp nail of his thumb raking across the sensitive nipple. She squirmed and pressed closer, longing to have him wrap himself around her completely. She could feel his cock pressed against her buttocksbut Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t hard. She reached back, taking him in hand clumsily, hoping that the bondages didn’t feel unpleasant on his skin. The soft flesh grew thicker and heavier, lengthening immediately in response to direct stimulation, until she could barely wrap her fist around it, his prick now rigid and fully erect. It was exciting, knowing that _she_ did it, that she could arouse him so easily.

Belle reached between her own legs, rubbing herself to make sure she was ready. She wasn’t particularly moist, this desire to have him inside her different from the consuming need she felt previously, but it would be enough. She covered the head of his cock with the same hand, spreading the wetness from her fingers to coat it and guided it to her entrance.

She raised her knees, adjusting the angle and Rumpelstiltskin slid lower on the bed, lining their bodies up. He pushed forward, his hand holding her firmly around her waistand the tip of his cock nudged her open. He pressed further, her inner muscles grasping him tightly as he stretched her, sliding deeper, withdrawing an inch to sink back in. It felt good – the familiar sensation of being penetrated, of being filled by his cock, of being joined and having his hands on her skin. He rocked against her slowly, making deep even strokes, resting his forehead on her back as his hot breath came out as short puffs between her shoulder blades.

Rumpelstiltskin stifled a moan when she flexed her muscles, grasping his cock to keep it inside when he would slide out.

“Gods, Belle,” he rasped and she smiled to herself, repeating it, drawing a groan from him this time.

He moved his hand down her belly to fondle her but she caught his arm, lacing her fingers through his and holding them in place. She couldn’t quite explain why she didn’t want to cum; there was faint throbbing in her lower abdomen, indicating that she could do it, that her body was ready for it. But she wanted this time to be for him, to be reassured that things were alright between them, that he still wished to be with her.

Even though she didn’t crave a climax it was pleasurable enough – his hard length sliding inside her, the friction and the sweet pressure, his shallow breathing which turned into panting as his thrusts became faster. He came with a burst of wetness inside, clenching his teeth and breathing hard through the nose, his heart racing against her back.

She felt satisfied, content, differently from what physical relief would have brought her, and yet it was important to know that her body could grant him pleasure. Belle didn’t imagine lovemaking being peaceful or calming, but it was.


	39. Tension

Rumpelstiltskin didn’t withdraw immediatelyand she made no move either, except for running her finger across the shape of his fingernails. They felt sharp but he never once hurt her with them. The nails were longer than hers and she wondered if he preferred them this way or he simply didn’t care enough to trim them. Belle caught herself rambling and giggled; truly, after the previous two days’ events and being together in bed with his arms around her, the only thinking her mind produced was about _fingernails_.

“What’s so funny?” His body stiffened as if he decided the merriment was at his expense.

“Nothing, I was just…Never mind.” If she felt silly for her own thoughts, what would Rumpelstiltskin make of them?

She imagined she’d be exhausted and that her body would demand rest, but now she did not feel sleepy at all. She kept tracing the contour of his fingers leisurely, circling the rougher patches of skin on his knuckles, listening to his breathing becoming even once more. It must have been close to sunrise, the darkness of the room becoming less dense, shifting from inky black to deep grey. Belle usually let the shutters open, welcoming the morning sun into the room. Not that she actually saw it, waking up in his chambers during the last week.

“Rumpelstiltskin? Will you promise me something?”

“What is it, dear?” He spoke carefully, tensing up again.

“I…” she swallowed, not sure how he’d react to her request. “Please tell me you will not seek vengeance. That you will not come after Regina.”  
“ _What_?” His voice came out too loud against her ear and he shifted, sitting upwards and draping the corner of the sheet around his shoulders. Belle sat up as well, making sure she was decently covered before leaning against the headboard. She could almost make out his features in the light of dawn – his large eyes, the faint glow of his skin and his wild hair sticking out in every direction possible.

“Why are you saying that?”

“Because I don’t like the way she influences you,” Belle said simply. “She brings out the worst in you and…” she made a gesture in the air, looking for the right words. “She makes you evil.”

He actually laughed at that – high-pitched unnerving giggle that made her skin break into goose bumps.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, _dearie_?” Oh, there was that scornful dearie again. “I am the Dark One, I _am_ evil.”

“No, you’re not!” She protested stubbornly. “In your heart you’re a good man.”

Rumpelstiltskin snorted; he had the déjà vu felling – they’d had this conversation before.

“Are we back to that again?” he drawled. “You damn well knew what I was like but it never prevented you from anything.”

“Please, no need to be like that.”

“I am not a dog to be trained and I definitely will not tolerate being told what to do,” he said through gritted teeth. Belle winced. She should have expected him to take her words the wrong way. She placed her hand on his forearm, regretting the fact that she had even begun this conversation.

“I am not telling you what to do, I am _asking_ you. It would just ruin our time together if you keep plotting revenge. I know you have kindness and the ability to forgive in you and…”

“Why are you protecting her?” He shook her hand off and it hurt more than when he returned to calling her dearie. “Are you forgetting who we’re talking about? Or did Regina manage to make you into her ally in such a short time, hmm?”

“I am not protecting anyone, it’s just…”

“No,” he snapped before she could finish the sentence.

“Rumpelst…”

“Enough! I will not make a promise I do not intend to keep and I don’t want to discuss it anymore!” He squinted his eyes at her, arms crossed in front of him defensively. “She ordered for you to be kidnapped! And why did it happen, dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin wiggled a finger at her accusingly. “Because you were too careless to keep the bloody ring on!”

“It was stupid, I know but it was an accident! I’m sorry, alright?”

He didn’t answer but snapped his fingers. Rumpelstiltskin grasped her hand firmly yet he was mindful not to squeeze too hard and slid the ring on, the metal cold on her skin.

“I’ve enchanted it so that no one except for me can take it off. Need to make sure my instructions are followed, whether you remember them or not.”

Belle sighed at that; she knew he had her best interests in mind but he didn’t have to be so difficult. It was her fault, she should have worn the ring and avoided the whole situation. Why couldn’t he just accept her apology and let it rest? There was no need to fight over what had been done. She was fine and safe now; they could go back to a normal life. She didn’t want the thoughts of revenge to occupy his mind and really, he was better than that.

“Why are you being like that?”

“Like what?” He asked defensively.

“Afraid to let people see the better of you.”

“Because there’s nothing to see.”

“It’s not true!” She argued.

“Belle, no matter how hard you want to see the man in me, an ordinary person with simple values who distinguishes the world into black and white with no greys, it’ll never happen. You know what I am and it’ll never change. Please, can we just let it rest?”

She sighed but said nothing. He considered himself something that he wasn’t and seemed to turn deaf to her reasoning.

“Do you even realise what I had to go through?” His voice was a bit calmer now, but still angered. “I thought you abandoned me!”

He never intended to reveal that he was afraid she had left him but Belle paid no mind to the confession that slipped from his tongue.

“What _you_ had to go through?” Her voice rose dangerously, indicating it could break into a shout in no time. “Do I have to remind you that it was me who was bound? And all you care about is how _you_ felt?”

“Well it’s not that easy to start thinking about somebody else after those years of solitude!”

“If you’re so comfortable with being on your own, why don’t I just let you live in perfect harmony with yourself?!”

She clasped her hand over her mouth, realising what she had just said. Oh gods, what had she done? She was stressed and the lack of proper sleep was catching up with her but there was no excuse for blurting out something like that. Belle said it because she was angry, her mind shaping the exact words that could hurt him. It was unworthy, targeting him for his insecurities and she hated herself for uttering those words. Rumpelstiltskin was out of bed and fully dressed in a blink of an eye.

“No, no, wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” He headed towards the door and the girl rushed after him, tripping over the sheet and clasping the back of his shirt with both hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said it! Please look at me.”

Rumpelstiltskin turned but his features were hard and impassive. She cupped his face in her hands, trying to erase that mask, to let her words get to the true him.

“I do not regret anything,” she whispered, as if quietly spoke words would make him understand better. “I am grateful you saved me, and I’m happy to be back here with you.”

He seemed to shut all emotions out, regarding her with polite interest and Belle’s eyes began filling with tears. “ _You_ make me happy and I’m glad you allow me to be near. I was serious about what I said earlier – you will not lose me and I will not leave you as long as you want me near.” She could feel a tear rolling down her cheek but she didn’t take her hands off his face. If only she could take those cruel words back or make him see how she truly felt about him. His eyes were unmoving, just fixed on her face.

“Please say something,” she whispered uncertainly, no longer being able to bear the silence and his piercing glare.

“Are you done dearie?” He cupped her hands and for a moment she believed he would forgive her, but Rumpelstiltskin just pried her hands off his face and let them drop along her sides. “Well, if you are, I’ll excuse myself. I’ve got better things to do.”

He turned and walked out of the room briskly. Belle sat on the bed, hiding her face in her palms. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did she even open her mouth? _Because I didn’t want him to kill anyone, because I want him to be good even if he despises it and thinks it makes him weak._

If her intentions were pure, why did it feel so much like shattering everything they’ve achieved?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been late to post, real life is catching up with me (don't let it to that to you!)
> 
> But rest assured I appreciate every little comment and nothing makes me happier than knowing you follow and (hopefully) like the story
> 
> As always, if you have ideas/suggestions/blames you want to express - I'm always there, ready to listen :)


	40. Honesty

Belle felt completely lost. She wiped away the tears quickly; she wasn't a silly girl (even if she felt as one at times) and weeping neither solved nor achieved anything except for making her eyes red and swollen. She couldn't quite comprehend how they went from being wrapped around each other to quarrelling. Partially, it was about Regina, of course. No matter how casual and banal Rumpelstiltskin made a murder sound, it wasn't as simple as sneezing.

It was his soul she was worried about, not Regina's. The act of taking one's life would leave marks invisible to the eye; wounds and scars that never heal. He may not realize it, but he would just destroy himself. Surely, there were people who'd enjoy killing, but despite how hard Rumpelstiltskin would argue, she just knew that deep down he was different. He was good even though he preferred to see himself as a monster; and to be fair, he did everything for others to see him that way.

On the other hand, there was something else about their fighting, something far more personal. For whatever reason, he felt conflicted. He did promise to open up and let her in, that bought them about a week of sweet understanding and, well, _normal_ co-existence - yet it seemed easier said than done. He didn't have to be full of doubts and scorn. Belle saw no ground for him to be insecure and push her away. Why did he question and argue everything she said? He didn't have to dissect her feelings, trying to get to the core in his search for motives or hidden danger. Why couldn't he just let go and accept being loved?

Wait, hold on, did she just use the word _love_ thinking about Rumpelstiltskin? Oh. Did her brain merely gave her a suitable word for the sentence or did she really love him? Belle wasn't sure. The books described love as an overwhelming, life-changing feeling, something truly magical born at first sight but offered no advice on how to figure out if you were in love with a centuries-old bad-tempered spiteful sorcerer. Maybe she ought to write one, starting with a chapter entitled "Things that should not be discussed in bed with your Dark One" - even if the list could be miles long.

The first-sight definitely didn't apply to them and Belle didn't feel like meeting him drastically changed her. It altered her life, but did she feel different? Was she another person now?

It wasn't like Belle could just come up to him and enquire about symptoms of being in love. She wrinkled her nose at the word. Symptoms. Like it was some kind of a disease. There was warmth in her chest when she thought about him, different from when she'd imagine her friends, and there would be a fluttering in her stomach or faint pulsing in her loins if she thought about certain unchaste things they did. She liked him, being with him, touching him and just talking to him, but was it love?

If she told him about her feelings, avoiding the L-word, what would he do? Laugh at her? Not take her seriously? Hurt her with harsh words? Admit that he did feel something for her as well?

Belle hit her pillow with frustration. Books were so much easier than real life. In books people knew what they wanted and by fortunate events they got to live happily ever after, but she suspected Rumpelstiltskin was not the happily-ever-after material. Yet when she imagined somebody else at her side, the idea was repulsive. She didn't want someone else. She'd much rather live like this - even if it meant quarrelling every now and then and constantly struggling to make him believe her than be a common lady whose only job was to obey her husband and bear him heirs.

Still, all those thoughts didn't get her any further. She shouldn't have suggested Rumpelstiltskin was better on his own and it would take her more than just one apology to prove that she was truly sorry. Yet Belle suspected that he'd be hiding from her, unwilling to face her. Or if he did, he'd act as if she didn't matter. Well, that hurt. But he didn't banish her from the Castle, which, she hoped, was a good sign.

***

Belle slept, surprisingly peaceful, and woke up hugging her pillow and feeling well-rested. She stayed with her eyes closed for several blissful moments, feeling the soft hands of sleep release her until she remembered last night's events. Strangely enough, the thought didn't cause her as much discomfort as she expected. She stretched and glanced at her window - judging by the sun, she'd slept through most of the day. Just as well.

She dressed and made her bed, battling with herself whether she was ready to come downstairs and face him or not. She felt a pang of pity, undoing the braid he made, but her hair was still slightly damp at the nape of her neck, so she brushed it and let it down. Belle postponed leaving her room by untying the cotton bandages from her wrists - the skin still smelt of tar but the scratches healed overnight just like he promised.

Rumpelstiltskin wasn't in the dining room although there was food on the table. Well, that was to be expected, yet Belle wasn't sure if she felt disappointed by his absence. She didn't feel hungry and decided to settle for tea. Then, thinking that he was probably at his spinning wheel, she loaded a tray with honey, a teapot and a matching set of cups and carefully walked to the living room. Surprisingly, he wasn't there either. Belle sat in an armchair, picked up a book (she seemed to leave them open all over the place) and began drinking her tea. She felt slightly guilty, as if she prevented him from coming in here to spin, but it was silly. Surely, if he wanted something, there would be no obstacles for him.  

Belle spent the following day alone too and she began to suspect that the man turned invisible; he wouldn't leave without letting her know. She didn't want to go into the laboratory, that was his domain, after all, but all this hiding was plainly childish.

The third day her mood turned foul. The day just started the wrong way. She hit her baby toe on the leg of the bedpost when she reached her foot under the bed searching for her slippers. Her toe was still throbbing unpleasantly when she went for breakfast. Belle couldn't quite explain why she was so annoyed - it was hardly the first time she hurt herself due to her clumsiness. While she stirred her tea, her eyes caught the light reflected off her sapphire ring. The piece of jewelry on her finger only added to her irritation; it was a sign that Rumpelstiltskin did care about her safety, even if he had to shove it down her throat. She pulled on the ring hard, trying to peel it off her finger, but of course it did not move a millimeter. Bloody magic; it caused more trouble than it brought good.

She finally worked up the nerve to go into the lab; yet the man wasn't there either. She scowled, seeing her ruined potion swirling lazily in the cauldron looking as thick living mud and opened the windows to aerate the room while she dragged the cauldron downstairs to dump its contents outside. When she carried it back to the room, Belle discovered there were black stains in front of her dress. That seemed to be the last drop; enough was enough, she was so fed up with this kind of behaviour! She was guilty, she was going to apologize and make things right.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" she called loudly, but nothing happened. Nuh-huh, he didn't know who he was dealing with. She could be just and stubborn and pesky when she wanted. She tried again louder. "Rumpelstiltskin!"

"What?" he shouted from behind her, making her jump and turn towards him.

"Rumpelstiltskin," she repeated, half-amazed he did appear.

"Is it some new game?" he jerked his head back to get rid of a wavy strand of hair that fell over his eye. "Am I supposed to say your name too? Belle, Belle!" he made his voice thin and girlish and Belle giggled at that nervously.

Suddenly, he just slid across the floor, positioning himself barely an inch away from her. Startled, she stepped away but he kept the proximity, moving closer until there was no way for her to step further and her back was pressed against the wall.

"What do you want?" he snarled, enunciating each syllable and Belle shivered, feeling the cold from the stone bricks seep into her through her bodice. Her pulse quickened for no apparent reason and it was hard to breathe, as if his mere presence robbed her of oxygen.

"To... to talk." She was also aware how close he was standing, dressed in a high-collared vest. The collar was curved, ending in sharp pointy edges you could cut yourself on; it was of some insanely bright orange that probably would look ridiculous on anybody else, but somehow it suited Rumpelstiltskin. Her eyes were drawn to the opening of the vest and the fluttering point of his pulse against his greenish-gold skin. His heart was beating fast, faster than hers - was he nervous, irritated or was it always like that but she never paid any mind to it? She was mesmerized by this little evidence that he did in fact have a heart and found herself counting the rapid beats - one, two, three, four…

"So talk, or you're going to stand there all day ogling me?"

Belle licked her lips; that wasn’t a bad alternative. She had already forgotten what she was going to say. The smell of his leather, mixed with a faint trace of smoke that clung to him tickled her nostrils and the heat of his body, even though he did not touch her, robbed her of all the words she had prepared.

"I… I wanted to apologize."

"Is that so, _dearie_?" he drawled, but his dearie didn't have much of its usual cutting edge.

She nodded but found it hard to say anything else.

"I thought I made it clear we were done discussing the subject days ago."

"Yes, but you also made a promise to listen to me when I have something to say." Belle chewed on her lip, uncertain if she should be reminding him of that.

"Indeed." Well, he didn't sound angrier; that was good.

"Can you… can you move a little away?"

"Oh ho, why would that be, dearie?" His eyes dropped to her cleavage and he dragged his long fingernail along the border where the top of her dress met her skin. Belle had to bite down on her lip to stifle a moan; gods, it was wrong, she suddenly felt hot and bothered and wanton and the last thing she wanted to do was to talk. She shivered at his touch and Rumpelstiltskin misinterpreted it.

"Not so willing now, are you? Do I frighten you, dearie?" She trembled but it wasn't fear; she could be afraid for him but not of him. Her body was tight as a bow for an entirely different reason. He bent down so that his hips lips nearly touched the shell of her ear. "Do I… disgust you?"

His proximity and the low voice seemed to forgo her brain and shoot straight to her belly. No, that wouldn't do. If they intended to have a conversation and she wished to retain some of her modesty - proper ladies did not desire to be ravished on tables - he needed to move away.

"My neck hurts from having to look up at you from this angle," she replied calmly, proud that her voice didn't waver and Rumpelstiltskin did move away slightly, putting a dozen inches between them. Did he really believe she'd be intimidated by this closeness?

At least now she could see his eyes; not that it made her any more concentrated on what she was going to say.

"Do you ever shave?" she lifted her hand and brushed her fingertips along his jawline. His skin was soft and she didn't know why she'd never asked him before. She'd never _seen_ him shave or smelt any cologne on his skin but it didn't meant he didn't do it. Rumpelstiltskin winced as if she slapped him instead of a light touch and she quickly jerked her hand back.

"What, you called me here to ask if I _shave_?"

"No, sorry, I don't know why I asked that."

"It seems that I'm just wasting my time here." Belle wrinkled her nose. She didn't like being talked to in that manner, but at least he was talking instead of hiding.

"Legends say you're immortal, so you cannot be wasting your time," she pointed out and he blinked at her with surprise.

"I wanted to apologize - again - for suggesting that you'd be better off alone."

"But it is true," he argued through gritted teeth.

"No," she said firmly. "No it's not. Otherwise why didn't you order me to leave?"

"No need to burden myself with that task; you'll leave quickly by yourself soon." And if she stayed, he'd probably think it was out of stubbornness just to prove him wrong.

"You don't mind my company then?"

He didn't reply and Belle just shook her head. The conversation wasn't going the way she hoped; maybe she was trying the wrong approach.

"I was thinking…"

"Always a bad sign," he snorted and Belle pursed her lips giving him a stern glare.

"Fine, dearie. Share with me the fruit of your mental… exercise."

"I was thinking and I decided that you… complete me." She paused but Rumpelstiltskin didn't laugh. He simply looked at her and she went on. "You see, I realized that even though we are different…"

"Oh, it's because I'm so much more charming," he said dryly.

"…we are connected. So when you do something, it affects me as well. If you hurt someone, it'd be the same as if I did it. Do you understand?" She knew her words were uncertain and sounded weak but that was exactly how she felt.

"So when I told you I didn't want you to harm Regina, it was partially because it'd be _me_ doing it, because it would be my fault."

"I do understand," his voice was soft and she glanced up at him hopefully. "But it's too late now. I've already made arrangements."

"Oh." Her heart dropped, his words making her feel like someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water on her. Deep down she expected it. Did it change anything? Most likely not; she made her choice long ago but it didn't make her feel better.

"So, what are you going to do after that touching little speech of yours when you discover it doesn't change anything?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly.


	41. Shadow

It felt uneasy. She was still angry at him in the tower, mostly because of the way he spoke, and it hardly looked like they made up.

Yet Belle did smile at him when she found Rumpelstiltskin in the living room at his wheel and offered to share tea with her. Her feeling were ambiguous – she wanted to get away from him to have time to think yet she knew yearned to accept him; frankly, she understood them man if she imagined herself in his shoes. But still…

He cautiously moved to sit near, positioning himself right on the floor next to her, stretching one leg out while his arm rested on the bent knee of his other leg. Despite a seemingly relaxed and casual pose, his shoulders were stiff as if he expected her to move away but the girl made no sign his presence at her side was undesired.

“When you said you made arrangements, what did you mean?”

"Belle…" he scowled.

"I have the right to know. If you're going to inflict pain on someone because of me, I _need_ to know."

"I'm not doing it because of you," he grimaced. "I used it merely an excuse to get to Regina."

"Still, it's my fault."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"It is. So tell me. What did you do?"

He was quiet but she knew she won. Rumpelstiltskin sighed.

"I detached my shadow."

"What? How?" Belle's eyes turned round. She didn't even imagine something like that was possible.

"With a dagger, of course," the man replied plainly as if cutting one's shadow off was with a knife was a most obvious and mundane thing. She squinted her eyes and indeed, in the soft light caused by the fireplace she could not see him cast a shadow.

"But why?"

"I sent it away to do… things."

"What kind of things?" she persisted.

"Nasty things. Belle, trust me when I say you don't want to know."

She did but she also feared his answer.

"Will those things prove.… fatal to Regina?" She asked carefully and he waved his hand it the air dismissively, indicating it was nothing worthy of her trouble.

"No, I don't believe they will."

Belle let out a sigh of relief and shifted to tuck her feet under herself.

"But, dearie, there're far worse things out there than death," he added dryly, making the girl wince.

They sat in silence for several minutes, Belle trying to process what she heard. What was worse than death? Torture, solitude, madness, or being shunned from every place and despised by everyone? Her mind lacked the ability to encompass what his devious imagination could conjure.

"Rumpelstiltskin, is there any way you could reverse it? Call the shadow back?"

"No." There was no regret in his voice but he sounded genuine, locking their eyes, his large irises holding the dancing bronze sparks from the mantle.

"But if you _could…_ now that... That I've repeated more than once how important it is to me, would you do it?"

"How does it matter now?" he sounded irritated but didn't raise his voice. "It's done."

"It matters to me. Please answer."

His eyes searched her face. Her features were relaxed but her glare seemed hard and determined; it _was_ important to her.

"Maybe," he admitted reluctantly, concerned about appearing too soft. Hell, had he not given into his anger - curse Regina for being able to provoke him even when she was miles away - he could have played along with this whim of Belle's. Not that he believed in, how Belle put it, the idea of her being held responsible if he kept his promise to the Queen to destroy her; but the way Belle spoke of them, well, a _couple_ as if she wanted them to be together, was enough to convince him to do anything for her.

"Thank you," she said quietly and he closed his eyes. She had nothing to thank him for, nothing would change. Yet a mere promise that it might have been different restored her faith in him. "That's all I wanted to know."

Her hand faintly brushed his cheek and he leaned into the touch. It was wrong, completely wrong. He didn't deserve this, her kindness, her acceptance, but oh but how he craved it.

"Belle," his voice no more than a croak, ugly and flawed just like he was. Rumpelstiltskin shut his eyes tighter. "Why do you do this? Why do you reach for me time and again, even if I never fail to prove that I _am_ a monster?"

Her hand petted his hair, slow gentle strokes of her fingers soothing yet he tensed and held his breath waiting for her answer.

"Because you're no monster, and if you won't believe it yourself, I can believe it for both of us." Rumpelstiltskin swallowed hard. Us. There was an _us_ now and his stomach fluttered at it. _Us_.

"I see the goodness in you and there is a reason for everything you do. I don't think it's the first time Regina tried to get to you; only this time she used me to hurt you. You were afraid for my safety and you wanted to strike first now to never encounter that kind of situation again." It hit very close to home but that was to be expected. Belle was smart, but she didn't seem to realize just how much he was affected by her abduction. "I understand why you did it, even if I do not like it."

Rumpelstiltskin sniggered.

"You make it sound so simple, so.… _human_. Relatable, even. You read too many books, darling, not every deed has noble motives behind it and not every villain can be justified."

She smiled; the realization that they were done with his scornful _dearie_ took the sting from his words. Did he even notice that he referred to her differently?

"Perhaps _you_ don't read enough books," she teased and he sincerely laughed that time.

"Do you want to educate your monster then?"

"I'll read to you later. Can we stay like that for now? It's nice."

Rumpelstiltskin opened his arms and she edged closer, sliding down onto the floor and pressing her face in the crook of his neck as his arms wrapped around her form tightly. Neither of them spoke for a while. Only when Belle's body became limp in his embrace did he realize that this quietness was due to the fact that the girl had dozed off. Rumpelstiltskin chuckled, amused by how much at ease she could feel with him; most people were afraid to even approach him, much less to turn their backs to him, yet Belle wasn't a bit troubled by the fact she felt asleep with her head on the shoulder of this most powerful and loathed sorcerer. Then again, the notion of "most people" hardly ever applied to the girl.

He nudged her softly, smiling at a muffled _hmmph_ she made.

"I'm terribly wounded, sweetheart. I've never imagined my company bored you to sleep," he made a mocking pout when Belle sat straight and looked at him groggily.

"Are you complaining that only a few women actually _slept_ in your arms, preferring other activities?" She frowned and Rumpelstiltskin shook his head. How did she manage to turn his joke into a potentially disastrous discussion of his previous experiences? And there he was, thinking he possessed the rare gift of twisting one's words.

"No woman had ever found my embrace comfortable enough for sleeping. Or ever wanted to," he shrugged, hoping that'd be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

"Oh," she chewed on her lips before forming another question. "So what was it like with them?"

"Like satisfying the itch." Belle wrinkled her nose at that. "Quick, impersonal and unburdening. Fair trade, we just exchanged... _favours._ "

"How many have there been?"

"How many _what_ have there been?"

"Women!" she snapped and Rumpelstiltskin was taken aback by how forcefully she said it.

"Jeeealous, are you?" he teased in a honeyed voice, usually reserved to rub salt in the wound for someone he particularly wanted to annoy. Belle paused, thinking it over.

"Yes. Yes I am," she replied firmly, not a trace of humour or doubt in her tone. He eyed her, surprised at how surreal the situation was. Belle, (his) smart, stubborn, beautiful girl was _jealous_ thinking there used to be other women in his life.

"So, how many?" she demanded.

"Two, if you must know."

"Just two?" She sounded relieved and curious, as if she expected the number to be two hundred instead of two. It wouldn't be Belle if she didn't question further. "What happened?"

"We parted ways," he said and made a face when Belle looked at him expectantly, waiting for a more detailed answer. "They left me," he added shortly.

"Why?"

Like there was really any wonder in that. It was strange enough ( _lucky_ definitely not being the right word to describe those encounters) he did get into some twisted kind of relationship with those two women, considering his character and appearance.

"What do you mean, why? This," he swiped his hands down his front, "isn't a good enough reason not to get involved with me? Well, it certainly is sufficient to choose other, more important things."

"They're just stupid," Belle concluded. "But I am glad."

"You're glad I was used and discarded?" He said half-mockingly, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh no, not like that. I'm glad that I do not have to win you over," she actually blushed at that. "I hate the idea of competition."

He decided he wasn't ready to know why she'd ever want to win him over.

"You're truly remarkable," he drawled thoughtfully, speaking more to himself than Belle. "Unique I'd say."

"Why, thank you, Rumpelstiltskin," she grinned at him cheekily. "I do believe that's the most genuine complement I've heard from you so far."


	42. Broken Vial

Belle returned to sleeping in his bed, claiming it was larger and more comfortable than hers. He teased her, offering to enlarge her bed and earned himself a swat on the arm for the lack of being subtle. He was happy she did sleep at his side, even if they - well, usually just Belle - simply did sleep.

Rumpelstiltskin discovered that she preferred other locations for less innocent tasks than sleep. Her newly acquired passion for the armchair still made him chuckle. He found her there one afternoon, engrossed in the book when it was time for their usual potion class - the girl was inclined to brewing, mesmerized by the subtle beauty of the changing colours in the cauldron left to simmer. Rumpelstiltskin didn't insist on teaching her anything else; it was best that she avoided any dark spells and he admired yet was quite puzzled by the fact that she seemed indifferent to experiencing the intoxicating surge of magic running through her veins.

He was a little worried she might have been outside (despite the fact that he made sure the ring would protect her this time), although Belle was more cautious now and shyly asked him to stay around when she wished to tend her roses.

So Rumpelstiltskin felt relieved discovering that a book on potions was a reason for her tardiness. He approached her soundlessly and put on a face, crossing his arms in front of him, but the girl didn’t honour his strict posture with as much as a glance. He snatched the book from her, holding it between his thumb and forefinger as if it was poisonous and flicked his wrist, making the offending volume disappear.

“Hey, I was reading that!”

“Oh were, you really?” Rumpelstiltskin pressed a hand over his heart and bulged his eyes out. “Silly me, I should have deduced that’s what you were doing.”

“Please return it,” Belle made the most adorable pout, stretching her arm out and looked at him expectantly.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I did say please, didn’t I?” Belle seemed convinced the book would materialize again and just drop onto her palm and her voice turned a bit annoyed when that didn’t happen.

“You were late for my class,” he chided, wiggling a finger at her.

“A lady is never late, you simply came to the tower early,” Belle replied cheekily in a tone sounded suspiciously similar to his manner of speaking and Rumpelstiltskin just had to kiss those lips, which led to more than one kiss.

He missed her so much, the days of worrying and misunderstanding making it seem like it’d been forever since he last he tasted her sweet lips. He couldn’t blame Belle for it. Of course, the fighting was entirely his fault. He didn’t deserve her, every small glance and touch being a blessing, but her irresistible beauty, both inner and outward appearance, called to him, making him want to succumb to her, to breathe in the scent of her hair and forget about everything else in the world.

Belle was always so eager, so soft and warm under his fingers, her tongue wickedly brushing the spots in his mouth in a way that would make him hard in no time. She knew exactly what kind of effect she had on him, and she pushed herself closer, the stiff points of her nipples grazing against his chest through the thin fabric of his silk shirt.

He teased her mercilessly that time, with his fingers and his mouth, blowing warm air over her clit that made her tighten and beg until he finally gave her what she wanted. Rumpelstiltskin was delighted by her moans and whimpers, taking immense pride in the fact that he could reduce her to babbling.

He tried to draw out more of those delicious sighs from her. He also found that she needed very little time to recover from her orgasm until she could reach the peak of her pleasure again. He experimented with it, stopping only when she'd say she could no longer stand it.

When Rumpelstiltskin finally entered her, not bothering to undress them and only raising her skirts up and getting the bottom of her underthings out of the way, he closely watched as his cock gradually penetrated her. He pulled out until only the head of his prick was inside and the shaft glistened with the copious amounts of her juices, before slowly sliding back in, feeling her pussy clench and quiver around him in the most delicious way. Normally, he hated the sight of himself naked - any part of his ugly exposed form was another reminder of his twisted nature - but he couldn't divert his eyes from the sight that time. His dark skin provided a stark contrast to Belle's tender pink sex and he watched in awe as his cock disappeared between her plump labia. She blushed when she caught him looking, the colour from her cheeks spreading all the way down her chest, covered by her dress and he regretted not stripping her fully naked to admire how far the flush could go.

Belle pulled herself up, bracing herself on the armrests to glance down where their bodies joined. Her position must have felt uncomfortable, her neck strained at the awkward angle, but she didn't move away. Resting her forehead against his, Belle whispered something completely incomprehensible and reached tentatively to stroke the length of his cock. Her fingers immediately became sticky with the juices she was producing and she spread her index and middle finger into a v-shape, pressing them at her entrance as the softness of her palm rotated against her protruding clitoris.

The hard pressure of her hand complemented the moist heat of her inner walls and Rumpelstiltskin just wanted to abandon the remains of his self-control, to pound into her hard, seeking his release, to splash his hot thick cum inside her, to thrust as deep as he could until he'd be totally spent and breathless. He didn't give into the temptation though.

Strange as it was, just pursuing his own pleasure, as attractive as it may seem, would not satisfy him fully. He wanted Belle to cum around his cock, to scream his name or even better to make her forget her words, to see her wild and thrashing, desperate and convulsing, to see her break apart. He knew she was bringing herself close, the movements of her palm becoming more insistent and purposeful, but he was on the very edge and her own build-up was too slow. She only needed a little push but the damn dress was in the way, making it impossible to reach her breasts. Rumpelstiltskin grunted and tightened his grip on her hips, manoeuvring the girl closer to him with only the top of her back remaining on the seat of the chair. He bent closer, sliding his roughly scaled cheek against hers until his lips grazed the shell of her ear.

"You like it, don't you?" his voice was sensually low and a bit husky, vibrating through his chest. Rumpelstiltskin jabbed his hips forward, making sure there was no mistake in what he meant by _it_ and Belle moaned in response, closing her eyes but they snapped open when he kept talking.

"You are so hot and tight around me, love, squeezing my cock like you long to keep me inside."

He thrust harder, his hoarse moan joining hers as the tip of his member brushed the sweet point deep in her pussy.

"How does it feel, to have my thick prick stretch you so wide, to have me - oh - slide so damn far in you?"

Her eyes regarded him with shock, but there was something else in her face - excitement and a low burning of need. Her inner muscles clenched around him stronger and her breath was coming faster. She _liked_ to hear him talk, she said she found his voice quite pleasant and his manner of speech very expressive, but it was different. She liked to be talked to in this way, his words stirring the wicked part of her and Rumpelstiltskin admired the twinkle in her eyes and the needy mewling noises she made. Belle licked her lips, as if she intended to actually answer him but appeared to be powerless and unable to form a coherent word.

"I want you to work your hand until you're no longer able to hold it back. I want to feel you spasm around me as your pleasure washes over you."

Neither of them paid any mind to the indecent, wet slapping noises their bodies made. Her fingers pinched and rolled her clit, her pussy feeling even hotter as she neared her peak.

"Gods, Belle, you feel so good wrapped around me and I just want to keep thrusting into you, harder and faster until I fill you with my hot cum," he flicked his tongue against her earlobe and she sobbed, the muscles in her body tense. "Would you like that, hmm? To feel me throb as I coat you with my seed?"

He bit down on her neck, sucking hard and caressing the fluttering pulse of her point and the girl shuddered, breaking into myriad pieces.

"Yes! Oh argh yes!" She shrieked as the orgasm hit her body, making her arch off the chair, her hands gripping the armrests hard and her nails digging into the fabric. Rumpelstiltskin cursed and drove himself deep with a groan, driving his cock inside her as far as he could reach and holding still as it indeed pulsed, sending waves of pleasure through him.

He was spent after a few intense moments, but didn't move until he could feel his member soften and shrink.

He fixed and cleaned them up with magic, erasing any evidence of their activities and Belle gave him a lazy smile.

"How do you manage to balance off those small uses of magic all the time?"

"Not to worry, there's usually a very small price for some comfort, I won't even notice it," he rose onto his feet gracefully, offering the girl his hand to help her stand up. "Trying to find out all of my secrets, darling?"

"No, that might take more than one lifetime, I'm afraid," she replied coyly. "Besides, we could find a better use for our time, don't you think?" She grinned but he didn't take the bait. While he was worried he might have gone too far, talking to her and putting in words what they were doing, Belle didn't seem insulted by it afterwards.

"Precisely my thinking, sweetheart. If I remember correctly, you have a potion to finish and you've already been late in attending to it. Luckily, I knew a thing or two about preservation charms."

"Oh. Um... Thank you." She took his arm and followed him to the lab.

***

Her fingers followed along the lines of her potion book for the instructions when Belle was startled by a sound of shattering glass. She jerked her head up to find Rumpelstiltskin, right hand in the air, frowning at the remains of a vial on the floor.

That was odd. She could imagine herself doing something like that, but his clever fingers were quick and precise when handling things. The man always took extra care and she had never seen him drop anything. It was impossible.

"Wha-at happened?" She squeaked, realizing how silly she sounded. It was obvious, what happened, but she couldn't just understand how he could be clumsy enough to break something.

“Oh, it’s nothing, darling,” he replied, still looking at his hand curiously. Rumpelstiltskin wiggled  and flexed the fingers of his right hand several times before letting it drop to his side. “Just a small mishap,” he offered, cleaning up the shreds of glass and the spilled substance in a blink of an eye.

“You must distract me more than I realized, you wicked little thing.”

Belle smiled weakly at his taunting and decided not to say anything. After all, their newly made peace could be just as fragile as the glass vial. She hated arguing and turning into an insufferable nagging creature.

It was just an accident and she probably had already given it more attention than necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't even pretend there was any plot in this chapter, but I hope you didn't mind some smut . Question of the day: Rumple talking during sex is eeew or aaaw?


	43. Alarming Signs

Belle had the strangest feeling ever but she couldn’t quite put in words. It was as if something had gone wrong, except that it hadn’t. There really wasn’t anything she could remember that was off. Just an ordinary day, predictably – and, in truth - enjoyably plain, yet the girl failed to shake off the gloomy feeling of something being out of sorts.

She stretched leisurely beneath the sheets and suppressed a yawn. It did feel early but Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t in bed. Perhaps, it was his absence that woke her up. She got alarmingly used to them sleeping together so quickly, considering her mostly strict upbringing, but she didn’t regret it one bit. Belle had often heard that happily married women glowed with happiness. Despite the first part not being true for her, she did feel like her body could sing with the pleasure his touch he awoke in her.

Rumpelstiltskin wasn’t in the dining room – which could hardly be viewed as unusual either – and Belle hesitated at the doors. She wasn’t hungry yet and toyed with the idea of looking for the man and offering to break their fast outside in the gardens when she heard his light steps in the hall.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he observed and gave her a boyish grin when Belle tilted her chin up for a kiss.

“Something you want?” he inquired playfully and shifted on his feet, wiggling his eyebrows at her, but instead of replying, Belle wetted her parted her lips slightly, hoping she didn’t appear too indecent, demanding his affection.

Rumpelstiltskin bent down, his warm breath with a hint of bitter herbs in it tickling against her face before pressing an ever-light kiss in the corner of her mouth. Belle sighed but let him take the lead. Somehow this brief almost chaste touch seemed to work her up harder than if he were to thrust his tongue in her mouth, kissing her hard and long. But there was time for it now; time for it later.

With their eyes locked, she could see her own reflection in his overly large eyes and the tiniest specks of bronze in the swamp green of his irises.

“You’re not quite right, as that’s not all I wanted, but it’ll do for now,” Belle couldn’t resist a smile as his eyes widened at her artless flirting. “Good morning, Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Good morning,” he echoed softly.

“What would you think about a picnic?”

“Me? In the sun? That’s a horrible idea,” Rumpelstiltskin wrinkled his nose and she felt suddenly silly. Of course he’d reject, he must have had other things planned and besides, who would take their breakfast outside?

“...that’s precisely why we should do it.”

She beamed at him and her smile was enough of a reward to tolerate fresh air for a while. After all, no one would be there to witness his tumbling reputation of the wicked imp giving way when he’d simply take a morning tea with a beautiful woman on his own grounds.

***

He looked out of place wearing his dark leathers, seated on a cozy blanket with his back against an oak tree. The morning sun shining through the branches of the tree made eerie shades dance on his face and body along the bright patches the rays left. Belle couldn’t hold back a smile looking at the man – he tried to seem grumpy but she knew he was pleased to be out. She did notice something when they walked here – he cast no shadow himself, which made her stomach curdle with strange worry but he looked ordinary otherwise. Well, as ordinary as he could be with the odd scaly skin.

“What are you so happy about?” he grumbled, stretching his legs and crossing them at the ankles, but her smile grew even wider.

“Can’t a girl be happy?” she enquired, smoothing her pale purple skirts over her knees. Unable to resist, she brushed her fingers on his left cheekbone, where the sun made his skin glitter. 

Belle poured the tea in a delicate white and blue china cup and passed it to him. When their fingers touched, his hand seemed to be cool. It was strange but the air felt a bit chilly in the shade and the grass was still slightly damp. But then, she was something else too – his fingers trembled. Not enough to be visible to the eye, but certainly enough to feel and make the cup rattle against the saucer and the surface of the tea ripple when he took hold of the thing. And then something strange happened. The time seemed to slow down – it became thick and gooey like honey about to drip from a spoon and the world is drained of colour. Her eyes were fixed on the cup, crisp white against the hazel fluid. She watched in fascination, her eyes drawn to the tea, as the tremor send little waves right from the center to the rim, one small drop swelling on the edge of the cup, until it became too large to be contained and separated, rolling down the side. Then she blinked and everything snapped back to normal, the things bright once again in the morning sun.

Bell frowned. Somehow this small observation made the hair at the back of her neck prickle unpleasantly. It was nothing, gods, she was most likely just imagining things and yet… His movements always were so elegant, precise, full of subtle grace whether he tiptoed around the castle or made a show of his grand appearance.

They didn’t speak, the rustle of wind in the leaves being the only sound for miles around the castle. Belle was trying to figure out the nagging worry she had no reason to feel. The bright morning lost its allure and she was uncomfortable in the opening, shivering at the sudden trill of a bird hidden in the branches.

Rumpelstiltskin sipped his tea quietly, sharply perceptive of her change of mood. Another gust of wind toyed with his hair, lifting it up and letting her catch a glimpse of silver-dusted strands that – Belle was certain – had not been there before.

***

The girl’s worry began coming into shape in the course of the next days. Come Saturday, she was sure what it was about. Something was wrong with Rumpelstiltskin.

The coldness and tremor in his hand had spread. Although they developed gradually, now his right hand seemed to become almost completely numb.

When she noticed him use the utensils with his left hand or switch to stirring the potion with it, Rumpelstiltskin joked that he decided to try something new and challenging to spice things up as mundane tasks got so boring when repeated in the same way for centuries. Belle could pass it off as another of his extravagancies, except for the other alarming sign – he stopped spinning.

Although it meant there was more time for them to spend together to talk or be close in silence, the fact that he stopped spinning was the worst of all. He no longer did it because he simply _couldn’t_ – the fingers on his right hand lost their flexibility and one night she watched him (completely unaware of her presence) at his wheel, cursing as the thin gold thread broke or came out in thick knots instead of  a smooth, silken line.

Whatever this horrible thing was, it seemed to grip him in its relentless and merciless grasp. Rumpelstiltskin had developed a constant chill – every single fireplace in the Castle now hosted a blazing and roaring fire until Belle felt like she was in a greenhouse, her skin often covered with sheen film of perspiration but the man still felt cold, now wearing his long leather travel cloak even indoors. When she asked him about the heat, he just dismissed her concern by joking he tried to make her wear less clothes. Belle wasn’t amused though. He grew distant, even when she reached for him in bed, trying to break the ever present chill with her body heat, he would pull away, turning onto his side and wrapping the blanket around himself up to his ears.

Belle felt like not only was his skin was turning cold but that there was a freezing hand around her heart, tightening its grip on her every day. Rumpelstiltskin was hiding something from her, something dark and dangerous, and she needed to find out what it was before she drove herself mad with fruitless guessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised you several chapters but I simply had no time for it with working, studying and just being moody. *sigh*  
> Next chapter will be long and smutty, I hope it makes up for a promise unkept :(


	44. A Cure

“Rumpelstiltskin, we need to talk.”

“Oh dear, am I in trouble now?”

He gave her a smile that never reached his eyes and Belle was startled by how exhausted he looked. How could she not see it before? Those shadows under his eyes with the more pronounced crow’s feet at the corners... He seemed tired and sleep-deprived even though now he slept every night compared to the previous days spent working or spinning.

“What is happening?”

“Well, let’s see,” Rumpelstiltskin tapped his chin sharply with a long-nailed finger. “I believe, the ogres are plotting an attack on the southern lands – if grunting and constant drooling can pass for plotting. Queen Snow White will soon birth to a baby girl that will eventually inherit the throne and quite frankly rule nothing like her mother. A certain mermaid is about to make a deal she’ll regret but which eventually will give her the happy ending she desires.”

“You know it’s not what I meant!” How could he just blurt out some jokes when she was dead serious? “What’s happening with _you_?”

There was a pause and the man clearly did not intend to answer the question.

“Rumpelstiltskin, please, I _need_ to know. What is wrong?”

He sighed but still seemed in a rush to indulge her. Belle was worried and bit her bottom lip with her teeth while trying not to squirm in her seat.

He finally gave up.

“There is something draining my magic,” he confessed. “I didn’t think it was possible, but it appears to be so. And with the magic, my life powers diminish.”

“You… you’re not d… _dying_ , are you?” Belle’s voice cracked at the word and she kept her eyes wide, watching his face with intent.

“No, of course not. It no longer feasts on my energy, besides, the Dark One possesses a life eternal,” he replied not without a hint of pride. “It’s just merely… inconvenient.”

“Could it… could it be the price of magic? For the…” she paused, searching for the word. _Evil_ was what came to mind but she knew better than to say it out loud. “For whatever your shadow did to Regina.”

“Perhaps,” he steepled his hands before his face, his eyes losing focus and staring off into the distance. “Or the Evil Queen proved to be more cunning than I anticipated.”

Belle bit the inside of her cheek but couldn’t quite muffle the whimper she made, which threatened to turn into full-blown crying. She pressed a hand to her mouth but he still caught the sound.

“Oh, stop it now,” he snapped but immediately softened and stretched his arm out. Belle grasped his cold fingers and allowed herself to be pulled into his lap, tucking her head under his chin. She felt guilty for being comforted when it was Rumpelstiltskin’s wellbeing that was in danger and she had to be strong and show her support. Her body trembled, meeting the coolness of his even through his multiple layers of clothing. Belle tried to blink the unwelcomed tears away, concentrating on the long intakes of his breath and slow exhales. He held her a little awkwardly as if he wasn’t sure that he was still allowed to. But his body was strong and solid beneath her and his scent, mixed with the smell of leather, so familiar and reassuring. The hand that came to stroke down her back soothingly was steady and she closed her eyes, enjoying his simple touch.

“You are overdramatizing, darling,” his voice was confident and Belle was grateful he didn’t find her silly or was annoyed at her near-sobbing. “I’m fine, it will go away and I’ll be back to my old self before you even know it.”

His low cooing and rhythmic heartbeat were almost hypnotizing and Belle chose to believe that it was just her tricky imagination playing on her nerves. Surely, he wouldn’t say something just because she chose to believe it.

***

She clung to him that night, desperate to get closer and trying to memorize every small movement, every little touch. Everything seemed somehow sharper, more intense and she arched her body, feeling like she could never get enough of him. They’d started slow and gentle but soon turned needy. Belle tried to chase away the cold and warm him down to his soul with hot open-mouth kisses on his skin, licks and little bites which drew most wonderful groans and hisses from his mouth. She traced random patterns on his skin, her fingers touching, stroking and pressing on every bit of flesh and every sensitive place she could find, but it wasn’t enough. Belle raked her short nails across his chest, leaving long dark marks on the fine scales. She wished she could still be closer, to give more, to convey through touch how she felt.

Perhaps she just imagined it, but it seemed to work. Rumpelstiltskin returned her kisses feverishly, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. He practically ripped the night gown off her, diminishing his own clothes swiftly by magic, his lips never leaving hers. They pulled away briefly to draw in a breath before his mouth was back on hers, the long purposeful strokes of his tongue making her lower body tingle with desire. Her lips already felt swollen and would probably ache the next morning but she couldn’t care less.

Belle felt like the fire he set in her was spreading through her veins like lava and she pressed to him, making sure she was plastered against his wiry torso. He grunted in response, thrusting forward to rut against her hip, his leaking cock jabbing against her thigh almost painfully. Rumpelstiltskin moved away slightly, squeezing his hand between their bodies to cup her left breast gently. But gently wasn’t the way she wanted it. Belle needed a reminder that this was real, that it was happening and that it was one night out of many - that there was a luxury of time.

Her palm covered his hand, increasing the pressure on her breast and he took the hint, kneading the soft flesh harder, his moist lips travelling along her jaw line and closing on the side of her neck. She sucked in a breath of half-pleasure and half-pain when his sharp teeth scraped against her skin. The rough pad of his thumb began drawing languid circles on top of her tit which gradually got smaller until he was tracing the shape of her areola, enjoying how the smooth flesh blended into velvety softness of the nipple. Belle pressed her legs together tighter, hoping that the increased pressure would relieve some of the throbbing ache in her loins but the caress of his single finger combined with the long bathing strokes of his tongue had her squirming and thrashing under him.

Rumpelstiltskin’s lips moved in a smile against her neck at the low rumbling moan she made when his thumb flicked against her nipple. He rolled the hard point between his thumb and forefinger, pinching the nub and letting his nail scrape over it. Belle wriggled until he was nested between her legs, the tip of his cock grazing against her entrance.

“Yessss,” she hissed trying to move lower against his manhood, to have him fill and stretch her.

Rumpelstiltskin remained oblivious to her apparent need. He shifted, sliding down, now both of his hands raising her breasts up and together. He inhaled deeply before rubbing his face on the soft peaks. He dragged his tongue on the underside of her breast and up between the cleft he created. Belle whimpered as he lapped at her nipples, closing his mouth around them but not quite sucking. Hot slick swirls of his tongue combined with her rapid panting breaths were maddening, but the man seemed to be quite content with his current task even though it felt like he spent forever exploring her chest and wasn’t going to move on anywhere else.

“Please,” she whispered hoarsely and Rumpelstiltskin lifted his head, meeting her eyes, misty with desire.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he enquired airily and if it wasn’t for the rapid rising and falling of her chest he could believe she was completely unaffected.

Belle buried her fingers in his hair and roughly pulled him upwards, crushing his lips in a kiss. There was no doubt he could feel her soaking wet pussy against him as his cock twitched with anticipation. His fingers caressed her face lightly, a stark contrast to the heated suction of his mouth.

“So?” he asked, voice tinted with amusement.

Belle couldn’t imagine why he took so much pleasure in teasing her while even the top of her thighs were drenched in her juices. She barely had the patience to endure those games any longer.

“You know what I want,” she said peevishly.

“Indeed,” Rumpelstiltskin smirked and nudged her sex with the head of his member, the pressure making her eyes close as her body arched against her will. “But it’s always nice to hear what exactly you desire so much.”

“Oh gods.” The pressure at her opening increased but he kept still otherwise, making her grunt in frustration.

“You… I want you,” Belle panted as if it wasn’t apparent. She would probably feel ashamed for begging if she wasn’t so wound up and practically soaked. Whatever got into him tonight wasn’t going to make it any easier for her.

Belle could tell him she wanted to hear him voice his pleasure as he took her hard and fast, to have him wrapped around her body as each stroke brought her closer to her relief. To reduce her to sobbing and whimpering noises as she’d clench around him and claw at his back until her body broke into a thousand pieces, every rational thought washed away by throbbing, blinding ecstasy.

Instead Belle bit her lip and reached down between her legs. If she couldn’t voice her request, she could show him. Her fingers were shy but steady as they closed around his girth and Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes fluttered shut at her touch. Not so cold-blooded and in control, after all. She lined them up, sliding her hand upwards on his shaft to indicate he should move forward.

Luckily, he didn’t need further encouragement. Ever so slowly he penetrated her, feeling her tight inner muscles give in and wrap around his intruding manhood. The feeling was sweet, too sweet to described and his gentle eyes that never left her face seemed only to intensify the pleasure. He didn’t pause once he was in, moving out just as unhurriedly. He was impossibly hard, all of her nerve endings responding to the stimulation as he leisurely sank back in. Belle felt her eyes roll back in her head and she shut them, no longer able to experience so much stimuli and being consumed by his hungry stare.

Gods he was so thick and hot inside. Belle felt she was going to melt around him, her body turning boneless as he kept those long, thorough strokes - his pace not faltering and she tried to squeeze him inside and draw him in deeper. His arms wrapped around her back, his wide-spread fingers leaving burning marks on her skin as he pressed into her, leaving no space between them. Belle brought her legs up, crossing them behind his back to draw him even closer, his weight almost crushing her. Rumpelstiltskin groaned as the changed angle brought him even deeper, increasing the pressure on the underside of his member, and rotated his hips on the inward movement, his pubic bone grinding against her clit and the warmth in the pit of her belly tightened at the sensation. It was different from where he directly touched her, but the closeness and the steady brushing against her swollen clit built her pleasure up, and she tried to concentrate on it, holding her breath and gripping his cock with her inner muscles.

She was almost there, climbing to the peak but not quite hitting it. In an out, out and in, two ragged breaths against her ear per stroke, so wet and hard, surreally steady, hot and firm and heart-throbbingly sweet. It was the same yet different, she felt like their coupling meant something, the thought that lingered in her mind for weeks now but now it swirled into shape and she had to reach it. Belle almost grasped it but her body ached pleasantly and she was almost there, she found the words, she had to tell him, she knew for sure now that…

Rumpelstiltskin moaned and her body gave in, his deep voice triggering her and sending her flying, the joy of relief hitting her body, that unstoppable tide after tide rocking through her. Her heart raced and she felt afraid that it was too much, that her body would not be able to take so much pleasure.  She cried out against his shoulder as he drove into her forcefully, her pussy spasming around his cock, her orgasm intensified by hard thrusts. Belle barely registered the flood of heat as he came.

Rumpelstiltskin moved onto his side, running his left hand over her damp body until her heart calmed and she opened her eyes. He looked a bit concerned but also smug, a cheeky grin tugging the corner of his mouth upwards.

Belle turned to him, bringing her face close to his and gently moving a wavy strand that was plastered to his cheek. She gave the man a brief kiss, then moved across his cheek, brushing her lips softly over his eyelids. She sighed contently, basking in his undivided attention as his hand still glided over her skin. Belle couldn’t imagine she’d ever find herself wanting again so soon but her body had quite a mind of its own. His touches sent sparks of desire rushing along her spine again and she encouraged him with little moans.

Her fingers danced along her nether lips and he arched his eyebrow at her inquiringly. Belle nodded, giving him permission and his hand continued the slow exploration. Her clitoris was still oversensitive but she didn’t push his hand away. He watched her face closely for any signs of discomfort and immediately jerked his hand away when the girl winced but before she could reassure him that it was alright, his fingers returned, more careful this time. They slid along the sides of her clit, over her pussy lips, dipping between her folds and probing at the entrance to move back up and coat her with a thick mixture of his cum and her juices.

Rumpelstiltskin rubbed her with the flat of his palm, smirking when her hips closed, capturing his hand and she grinded against it impatiently, flushed but determined. She sobbed when he inserted two of his fingers, curling them upwards and pumping them in and out. Belle bucked her hips, making him set the rhythm she wanted, her low throaty moans growing louder when she approached her climax. It took her longer this time and she almost felt neglected as his fingers caressed only her most intimate bits.

Belle raised her hands and pinched her own nipples timidly, shivering as her fingers seemed to send electric impulses that echoed deep in her womb, adding to her pleasure. Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes darkened with arousal and he bent down to kiss her forcefully, muffling her moans and drinking her cries, his lips and his tongue stroking along hers almost aggressively.

Belle felt that she could no longer hold back; her sex tensed and contracted around his fingers and then the world concentrated to a pin-point deep inside her body before exploding, waves of heat washing over her body from the top of her head to her curling toes. The pulsations subsided to a warm buzz in her quivering stomach and Rumpelstiltskin carefully removed his fingers.

“How was that, my sweet?” He purred into Belle’s ear and she shivered at the obvious lust in his voice. “Was it… satisfactory? Was it enough pleasure?”

Belle didn’t know what got into her but she met his eyes openly and gave him a mischievous smile.

“More,” she said, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Oh-ho.”

Rumpelstiltskin made a show of licking his fingers, which glistened with her juices, clean. Then all of a sudden, he grabbed her, flipping the girl over with controlled force and positioning her on all fours. Belle squealed with surprise but made no objection.

She did feel a bit uncomfortable though as his face nuzzled her sex, soaked with the mixture of her arousal and his cum, but Rumpelstiltskin didn’t seem to mind. She yelped as he bit the inside of her thigh gently before lapping at the marks his teeth left. He was teasingly close, his breath tickling the sensitive labia but he was in no rush to indulge her. It took an inviting moan and an arch of her back to finally have his lips touch her. Rumpelstiltskin eagerly cleaned her up, before shifting lower to lick her clit with a grunt.

His tongue was hot and confident, steady sucks and licks making her knees weak. It seemed he was getting off on the act as well, his hands curling around her hips to grasp her backside and hold the girl in place, his tongue flicking at the left side of her clit just in the perfect way, making her see stars. Her face was pressed into the pillow and she grasped the sheets helplessly as he licked hungrily, over and over.

Before Belle knew she was cumming, her clitoris throbbing in his mouth as he sucked and flicked his tongue against the sensitive nub. Her breathing became so ragged she thought she’d not make it. The pleasure was suffocating, his wicked and slightly rough tongue somehow prolonging it with teasing, soft strokes as she came down from her peak.

“Gods,” Belle panted, her mind too clouded and tired to form a single coherent thought.

She hadn’t fully recovered from the bliss when strong hands grasped her waist, pulling her down on the bed against him. His cock slid inside her pussy in a smooth stroke, not too fast yet not giving her enough time to accommodate.

Her pussy was slick from the previous round yet she felt as if she tightened inside from so much cumming. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t seem to care much about that, taking her as he desired. He made feral, animalistic noises through gritted teeth as he practically pounded into her, his hips making wet slapping sounds as they met her butt and he drove himself deep inside.

Belle felt was is if she was a rag doll, being maneuvered and pulled onto his cock and the thought that she made him lose control was dark and shameful, yet no less exciting. The mattress squeaked under the force of his thrusts. His long nails dug into her skin, leaving red, angry-looking half-moons as the pace of his frictions grew. Belle tried to match up, bucking her hips back even though the man left her very little room for maneuvering. Rumpelstiltskin’s movements were fast and erratic, none of that familiar tenderness left in them as he used her body for his own pleasure, muttering curses under his breath and thrusting hard until he came with a grunt, flooding her with hot thick cum and collapsing onto her, breathless.

He did roll to his side a moment letter, closing his eyes. The man heaved like he ran several miles but he also looked happy or at least more content and closer to normal than Belle had seen him in the last several weeks.

“Rumpelstiltskin?” she whispered, moving closer to the man but not quite touching him. Despite the heat and sweat from their love-making, he no longer radiated warmth when his breathing evened out. His skin was damp and cool, reminding Belle of reality, acting as a signal that no matter how hard she wished to forget, the problem was still there.

“You will find the cure, right?”

Rumpelstiltskin sighed and pulled the covers over them, extinguishing the light with an impulse of his magic.

“Of course I will, darling,” he promised, his voice steady and somber.

Belle's heart skipped a beat and she hugged him as tight as she could, to the point where it must have hurt him, but Rumpelstiltskin did not object or comment on her emotional outburst, holding her with just as much force.  
She knew Rumpelstiltskin was powerful, wise and _hers_.

But just as confident as she was about him and even though the darkness of the bedroom hid his face, she was also sure that he was lying.


	45. Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about I bribe you with an early chapter to distract you from the fact that I'll be away from the internet for the next two weeks? I hope this works :D
> 
> And i really really need to find my muse. The little trickster must have gone on holidays

He spent his days in the lab, flipping through the pages of some books, often working long hours and forgetting that he should eat. Belle brought Rumpelstiltskin food which often remained untouched unless she talked him into eating. Whether it was poor nutrition or the magic feasting on his energy - and considering he'd never been much of an eater she rather believed the latter - he was thinner, looking gaunt and fragile. She hated the pangs of pity that pierced her heart every time she saw him like that – slumped, pronounced shoulders even through the layers of clothes that failed to keep him warm. His eyes were the only animated thing on his now grey face - large vividly burning points of hope. But the more time passed, the more the hope shifted, giving way to something else. Fear.

He was afraid, the sticky, almost tangible strings of fear hanging in the air. It was wrong, this tired man had nothing in common with the image of the giddy sorcerer everybody knew. It made the girl realize that no matter how well he could pretend, he was a plain human. And both of them were suddenly aware, even if neither said it out loud, that despite the legends, he was also mortal.

Belle had never paid much mind to that before. Death was a relatively abstract notion - she knew she'd eventually die and that if she didn't play along with Regina's rules people in her village could get hurt, but she would never imagine that _he_ could cease to exist. He was Rumpelstiltskin, he was just _there_ and he would always be, even after everyone else was gone. She didn't want to speculate on what it would be like living with him - she'd age, even if he could possibly treat any of her illnesses while he remained as unchanged as stone. Would he want her then? What would he feel if she passed away? What if he could grant her eternal youth? Could she live with him forever, just two of them locked away in the vast Castle?

Time few past, seeping between her fingers as elusively as sand. When Belle would look back, separate minutes dragged on forever, filled with worry, unease and agitation, but evening always came as a surprise, indicating that one more day was lost to them, that another futile day brought him no closer to finding the cure. Because there _was_ a cure and he _would_ find it. Belle squished the malicious nagging worm of a thought that tried to tell her otherwise. She would do anything it required - cook for him, support him, help him look through the myriad of books in the library and the laboratory - even if he chose ancient volumes written in a long-forgotten language she couldn't understand - and hold him at night close to her heart to remind both of them that there was hope for the better.

Except that most nights she woke up alone - Rumpelstiltskin retired back to his lab once she would fall asleep, too nervous to rest.

Belle woke up when her fingers encountered only empty space on his side of the bed. It wouldn't do, she decided, he'd burn himself out. Wrapping herself in a shawl over her chemise she tiptoed along the corridor. She didn't like how quiet the castle was, the silence somehow ominous and deadly.

The man had his back to the door but didn't turn at her soft knock.

"Rumpelstiltskin..." she began. He raised his hand, indicating she shouldn't continue and Belle stopped in mid-sentence.

Yet he didn't break the intimidating silence and Belle tried again, coming closer but not daring to touch him when he seemed so unfamiliar and distant.

"Please come to bed," she said meekly. "You need to rest."

"Shhh, dear," he whispered loudly. "Do you hear it?"

Belle held her breath but she couldn't make out any sound except for the creak of his leather breeches when he turned onto the stool towards her. His eyes were bloodshot and his usually neat hair was sticking up as if he ran his fingers through it repeatedly. He looked unsettling, half-mad and she involuntarily took a step back.

"I don't hear anything," she answered carefully and his cold clawed hand grasped her wrist tight, pulling the girl towards him, his tired round eyes pinning her in place more efficiently than his grasp.

"No? Here. Tick-tock, tick-tock," he trilled. "Hear it? Tick-tock," he made a rhythmic clicking sound deep in his throat and Belle shivered, feeling her nightgown stick to her clammy backside.

"Do you know what it is?"

She shook her head and he let out a high-pitched chilling giggle.

"Why, it's so simple. Tick-tock. Guess what it is."

His forced smile drooped at the corners when she refused to guess and Rumpelstiltskin pouted.

"You are no fun, my dear. Tick-tock," he pulled her down sharply until his face was inches away from hers making it hard for her eyes to focus. The man dropped his voice to a barely audible whisper, making it nearly impossible for her to make out the words.

"It's my time, dear. My time on this earth is running out."

"Here," he continued feverishly as his fingers squeezed her arm harder and he slid her palm inside the opening of his coat and pressed it to his chest. His skin was slick and cold like that of a snake's despite the blazing fire in the tower that made tiny beads of sweat appear on her upper lip and forehead, evenly caused by the heat and eerie fear curling in the pit of her stomach.  Rumpelstiltskin's heart raced under her fingers.

"Feel it? It beats, my darling, but I'm already dead." His proclamation was followed by another uncontrollable mad giggle and Belle felt utterly horrified.

“Dead-dead-dead,” he chanted in time with his pulse, slurring the words together to match the rapid beats.

The girl straightened up and regarded him sternly. It was clearly the fright speaking in him, having haunted his mind for far too long to be contained. His nostrils flared and his eyes wandered about the room, looking for threats but when they returned to her, they didn’t move. He didn’t even blink, just staring at her. He reminded her of an animal, cornered and dangerous, pretending to be harmless but ready to pounce at the tiniest opportunity.

“No,” she said firmly, hoping her voice could possess the power to convince him. “No you’re not. We’ll find a way out of this, just tell me how I can help.”

“Help, eh?” Rumpelstiltskin cocked his head, looking at her appraisingly. Then his grin widened. “Oh yes, I know how you can help. Let me tell you a story, about a dark wizard who could only be killed by a certain dagger. Or so he thought.” Another giggle fell from his chapped lips, thin and high, making the hair on Belle’s arms stand on ends.

“I’ll tell you where it is, dear. All you have to do is stab me right through the heart – here, feel its useless pounding - and it will end. Just imagine, the power of the Dark One shall be yours!” Rumpelstiltskin let go of her wrist and clapped his hands together gleefully, as if it truly was a good solution.

“I would never do anything as terrible as this!” Belle protested.

“You’d let all my magic boil off into thin air?”

“I have no interest in power,” she said carefully, hoping that this strangeness was due to fatigue and not a newfound madness.

“Ah! I knew it! You are weak,” he spat, the smile replaced by a scornful grimace in an instant. “You want me dead just as much as the rest of the world but you’d rather wait. Oh yes, you’re too smart to get your hands dirtied!”

His accusing rambling was interrupted by a loud slap of Belle’s palm against his cheek. She immediately felt an urge to blurt out apologies – he did look hurt and taken aback, but she was shaking uncontrollably with anger and the girl found herself almost shouting.

“How… how _dare_ you say that!” she swallowed nervously. “How dare you even _think_ of something like that?”

He looked quite comical as his jaw fell open in awe and his hand cupped his burning cheek – she must have hit him hard, her own palm stinging. Belle almost burst into hysterical laughing, shaken with emotions.

“Never – do you hear me? – never again you shall speak of it!” She took few quick breaths to calm down but her chest contracted painfully with a mixture of anger, sympathy and hope.

“Now you’ll come to bed with me and rest and in the morning we’ll pretend like this did not happen.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s eyes were watery and she wished it was just a trick of the firelight. Before he could blink them away or let them fall, he pulled her close, hiding his face in the softness of her chemise and letting out a ragged sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her middle. “I’m so lost, I don’t know what to do, Belle,” he confessed and her heart throbbed with the thick despair in his voice. He clung to her and she petted his hair, wishing she could do more than just stand there, helpless.

“We’ll find a counterspell, or potion or _something_ and you’ll be alright.”

Because she was too afraid to let different thoughts cross her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know, that slap is extremely OOC. But I thought it was the only way to stop the sh*t Rumple was accusing Belle of.
> 
> As always, commenting is not obligatory, but much appreciated. I try to take the story likeable for _you_ :)


	46. Dismissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where an important thing happens. Almost

Sleep avoided her, even though Rumpelstiltskin’s breathing became shallow and peaceful as soon as his head touched the pillow. His arms were wrapped around hers, as if he tried to ensure she wouldn’t leave, but sleep relaxed his body and Belle slid out of bed. She couldn’t simply rest, even though she told the man the contrary.

She quietly pulled a robe over her chemise and walked to the library. Belle wished she could begin cataloguing the books – otherwise trying to find something would most likely prove useless. But she couldn’t just give up so easily. The girl picked out several volumes, sneezing at the cloud of dust which got stirred up and brought them to the table, stacking the books in an uneven pile. Belle relied on sheer luck, but, alas, she wasn’t very successful – the first volume she chose turned out to be written in a language that used pictures instead of letters. With a sigh the girl put the book away and opened the next one. There were history works on magic, incantations for household chores and even a spell that could force you to write poetry, but it brought her no closer to finding the solution. What curse could be vile enough to affect the Dark One, the most powerful sorcerer who had ever lived? Belle couldn’t recall ever feeling particularly religious but now she thought she’d be willing to pray to any force if only it would help.His state of mind worried her even more than his weakening body. If he truly was so desperate as to suggest she should kill him to absorb his powers and free him from this agonizing misery, then…

When her fingers brushed a gnarly worn cover of a thick volume she immediately knew the book was on dark magic. Belle hissed as the old - yet sharp - edge of the sheet cut into her finger. The contents were even worse – twisted revolting illustrations of rotting curses and plagues and things the girl didn’t even want to give a name to. Swallowing hard, she flipped through the pages, but it was about _how_ to cast nasty curses instead of a way to getting rid of one. Frustrated, she snapped it shut and quickly put the volume away.

How many books would it take until she found what was required? The thought that Rumpelstiltskin had probably already read every piece he possessed in his library but couldn’t find the cure was unsettling. Belle rubbed her eyelids, heavy with sleep. She should return to bed, there were still few hours before dawn. Yes, she’d do just that after she looked through the next book.

Her eyes fluttered open at the feel of her hair being carefully pulled aside and the sharp edge of the book cover digging into her cheek. Perhaps she just imagined it, but Belle thought the skin of her neck held a faint memory of a kiss – but surely no such thing happened. She tried to sit up, yelping in surprise at the pain that shot through her neck, her body protesting against the uncomfortable position she fell asleep in.

“Easy, darling.”

Of course he’s there, his presence in the room palpable even if Belle can’t see him. Cool fingers gently rubbed her sore neck, eliciting a sigh of relief as the tingling in her muscles subsided. Rumpelstiltskin carefully kneaded the tension away, the silk cuff of his shirt tickling her skin as his fingers rubbed and stroked, nails occasionally grazing her neck. He’s there to help and he will always be. She’s surprised she hears no creak of a leather coat as his clever hands work her neck and the top of her shoulders. Perhaps it means he’s better.

Belle was slightly ashamed for being disheveled like that, her hair probably in a complete mess but the man had seen her in prison, where water hadn’t touched her for days, so surely he wouldn’t care much about her uncombed hair?

When Belle no longer felt pain trying to turn her head, she caught his palm, cradling it between her hands and brought it forward to plant a soft kiss in the center of it. Her heart swelled with an overwhelming tenderness she couldn’t understand. She touched him before, Rumpelstiltskin touched her even more intimately but somehow this moment mattered. His fingers were cold but at least there was no tremor in them. Maybe, if she wished hard enough, she could warm him up with her breath, she could cast away the misfortune with the sheer power of her emotion, even though she was too afraid to admit what exactly she felt for the man.

Belle evaluated the pros and cons of saying it. But what could she tell him? She was uncertain if she loved him, this almost-broken man who could be so tender but only yesterday frightened her to death. Who could touch her so lightly in the morning but suggest she kills him at nightfall? So she thought better of it, stroking the soft inside of his hand, running the pads of her fingers on the flat surface where a man would have had lines – marks of destiny, promising him health and love and many years to look forward to – but the sorcerer had only blank skin that blurred into the ribbed scales that covered most of his body. She pressed her lips to the rib of his hand just to feel the textured edge. Rumpelstiltskin froze, like her touch was offensive, making a quiet strained noise that could be taken as protest and encouragement as her lips slowly – as if he was a spooked animal - caressed his scaled flesh.

“Thank you,” Belle said when the necessity of the massage melted into the selfish enjoyment of being touched. Rumpelstiltskin’s left hand rubbed the protruding knob of her vertebra in slow deliberate circles several times before he stopped to pull away and she reluctantly let go of his hand. “Did you rest well?”

“I… Yes. Belle?” The girl tried to turn around to look at him, but he stood too close to the chair and all she could see of Rumpelstiltskin was his rich-blue shirt. “You… you want to go home, don’t you?”

She furrowed her brows in confusion. That was a strange question, spoken in a way that indicated he wanted to ask something entirely different but didn’t work up the nerve to do it.

“Well, yes, I suppose, I wouldn’t mind it, but…” her voice trailed off but he seemed to have heard the answer he desired.

“Great! You’ll leave today. Go and get dressed, I’ll arrange the rest. The carriage will be waiting for you as soon as you are ready.”

“Wait, what? No!” Belle spun around to look up at him. What was he saying? She couldn’t go _now_ , not when he needed her most. “Why are you sending me away?”

“I’m not,” he explained to her patiently, but it wasn’t the truth. Rumpelstiltskin leaned against the table, crossing his arms in front on him. His pose was meant to be relaxed and airy but his fingers dug in his upper arm with more force than necessary.

“I’m simply giving you an opportunity. Don’t you want to see your papa? Your friends? Surely they’ll have the some kind of celebration upon your arrival. There’ll be music and dancers and all kinds of food.”

His voice was cheerful and even though the idea did hold a certain appeal, it didn’t feel right. He looked tired, the shadows under his eyes and the lines in the corner of his mouth deepened, as if carved overnight with a sharp knife by an unskilled carpenter. The sun coming through the stained glass of the library made his skin glitter and he looked old and out of place, almost lost. The screaming bright colour of his shirt mocked the silver-grey hue of his skin. The man tried to smile, the corners of his mouth twisting up but the smile could as well belong to that of a puppet, who pretended to bow and dance at his master’s will.

“But… what about you?” she asked, confused. Why here, why now? He barely allowed her to go outside a month ago and now he suggested she visit her family. Or was it just to be a change of place, to go away altogether from the depressing quietness of the castle?

The silence and the way he avoided her eyes were eloquent enough. He wasn’t planning to come with her. Coward. Panic and bitter disappointment rose in her chest. Did he truly believe her to be so shallow? She made no promises of forever to him but to take this excuse and flee because he considered himself some kind of a burden? Her breathing was too loud for her own ears and Belle clenched her fists, the nails digging into her palms, hoping that the sharp pang of pain would help her temper this anger.

"So you've simply decided what would be better for me..."

"Belle, I’m going this only..."

"…to get out of your hair!" She interrupted the man and continued speaking, raising her voice and almost shouting. "You… you discard me because you feel it's right?"

"It's not like I'm enjoying this too, you know!" Strangely enough there was no anger or irritation in Rumpelstiltskin's voice though he spoke with force, trying to make a point. "Isn't it what you wanted? Freedom?"

"What kind of twisted notion is that?" 

His silence was eloquent enough. So he thought she was his captive of a sort, staying in the castle because of duty or boredom or with a selfish motive? They had discussed it before but his insecurities still composed a barrier between them, a seemingly impregnable wall Belle tried so hard to get through but which grew thicker each time the girl believed it would crack.

“Oh no, you are not doing it, Rumpelstiltskin. Don’t you play the noble man and try to dispose of me merely because you think it’d be best for me. Nobody decides for me!” She was not a thing and he certainly had no right to command her life. She was an independent person, perfectly capable of her making own choices without anybody’s guidance. One moment he thought it would be best for her to become the new Dark One and today he thought she should leave.

“Belle, you don’t understand,” the man pleaded but she interrupted him angrily.

“Then explain it to me!”

“You must leave. It won’t be pretty, you saw it yourself. Yesterday… I don’t know what’s happening, I’ve lost all control and I don’t want you in the middle of it!”

His words cooled her down. He was lost indeed and he needed her patience and her ability to hope, not her accusations or rage.

“I am _not_ leaving.”

“Then I will.” Her heart raced, its thuds pounding in her ears and she wished he never said it. His jaw was set and his lips squeezed into a thin line. She didn’t fancy his tone and how he put distance between them. Like nothing she could say mattered, like he had already decided everything. She wanted to shake him. To kiss him and wipe that sorrow from his eyes – because as long as she could draw breath, there was hope. For both of them.

The pause stretched and Belle humourlessly thought she might need to slap him to his senses again. The air was still and they both remained where they were, her fingers locked into her lap, holding onto each other. Belle would much rather they never started talking. She didn’t know what was happening to her, the emotions swirling inside of her, changing from tenderness to anger to worry and from to annoyance back to calculating calm again.

“And where do you intend to go?”

“Away,” he muttered and her heart leaped. Was he truly doomed? Did he believe that by sparing her the trouble he would save her from further pain?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she huffed. Why were they even having that conversation? “It’s your home. _Our_ home. And no one is leaving.”

Rumpelstiltskin shook his head, his eyes closed and his face was pained. She wanted to reach for him, to hold him, to let him know that whatever it was, they’d go through it together but her hunch prompted whatever reassurance she could offer would be futile. The girl did move closer, stopping a whisper away before the desire to lean onto him could overpower her.

“Belle,” his whisper was hollow and bitter. “Will you… Could you ever forgive me?”

“For what?”

Rumpelstiltskin opened his eyes at her genuine bewilderment. Belle looked up and exhaled sharply, biting the inside of her cheek not to make a sound. Up close there was no mistake about it. It wasn’t just a trick of light - instead of the usual murky green, his irises were steel-grey, drained of colour and almost lifeless.

“For what I did to you,” the sorcerer was serious and she shivered under the intensity of his stare. He licked his lips nervously. “I could fix it, you know. Make… amends. Send you home, with everyone’s memories wiped clean, where no one would ever suspect…”

“What are you saying?” His hurried words made no sense. What was he going to fix?

“Just imagine being careless again, no thoughts burdening you.” And then it dawned on her. Rumpelstiltskin wanted to erase her memory and send her back home as if she had never met him.

“You won’t do this!” She cried, staggering away and sticking her arms in front of her protectively, as if they could shield her upon that forced magical oblivion. “You will not mess with my memories!”

“Belle, dear, it’ll be for the best,” he tried to reason with her but stopped when she gave him a firm push. “I cannot spin the clock back, but at least I can do so much.”

“No,” she shrieked, the panic flooding her. That was just sick. “How could you ever come up with an idea like that?”

He remained perfectly calm, his grey eyes immensely sad.

“The harm may not be undone, but…”

“What harm are you talking about? Rumpelstiltskin, please! I’m tired of the riddles!”

“I’ve ruined your life, Belle. Don’t you see? I could put you back and there’ll be no regrets.”

“If there is one regret I have, it’s about you being so stubborn,” Belle stepped forward, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You are the most insufferable, unbearable and impossible man I’ve ever heard of!” Belle raised her chin up, her head titled back to look him square in the eye. Rumpelstiltskin heaved, his chest raising and following rapidly and she wondered if his dismissal only appeared to be said at ease. Did he still believe she stayed because of some hidden motive? Why wouldn’t he accept that she wanted him, all of him, the dark part as well as the human? _Tell him_ , her mind prompted, _tell him what you feel_.

“I can promise it won’t be simple,” she went on when her bravery failed her. Simple words were somehow scratching her throat. He’d laugh at her feelings, or not believe her and it would hurt her more than anything. “And I’ll give you more than one occasion to complain. But I swear to be there every moment for you, good and bad and you’d have to drag me out of the castle yourself, yet I’d still return to haunt you.” He actually smirked at that and Belle felt relieved. “I’m not turning my back on you.”

“I haven’t messed up your life… too badly, have I?” Why was he so timid? She sensed he tried to be strong, but all she saw was a fragile shell of a man. Rumpelstiltskin gave up, entrusting himself to whatever future destiny was prepared for him. He had no right to sound so vulnerable, he should not look so vulnerable, he’s the Dark One and she feels like crying but she shouldn’t, because she must be strong and brave - even if it’s the last thing she feels like doing.

The girl sighed and tried to concentrate on the question. She’d been imprisoned, rescued, kidnapped and freed over a course of several months. But she also had never felt so alive, cherished and needed. She wished things were different. She wished nothing was.

“You made me happy,” she confessed, her cheek coming to rest upon the slick fabric of his shirt. “You _make_ me happy. And please, let’s never return to this conversation again. Stop trying to tell me what’s best. I have everything I want and need.” Because it all came down to what her heart wanted and what her rational side denies.

Rumpelstiltskin’s arms delicately circled her slim back. He put his chin on crown of her head, her hair moving under his breath. She could smell the bitter herbs on his skin and if she moved her face just a little, she could kiss the hollow at the base of his throat.

He didn’t believe her words, of course, taking them for a token of devotion you give but do not mean. It wouldn’t be Rumpelstiltskin if he accepted her and yet not push her away either. Everything would be alright. Belle only needed time to convince herself that her heart was true. If only they had time.

"It gets boring after a while, you know," Rumpelstiltskin drawled thoughtfully.  
"What does?" Belle raised her head and the man looked down, meeting her eyes with calm.  
"Living," he said simply. "People behave the same way, make the same mistakes, and history repeats itself. You've seen and done nearly everything imaginable. You come to realize that immortality is dull and pointless. Unless..."

"Unless you have a goal," the girl finished the sentence for him.  
"Yes. Something worth living for," he agreed somberly. "Something or... someone."  
"And... uh... do you think you have found that someone?"  
"No, I don't _think_ I have. I know for certain."

Belle could feel the colour drain from her face. Did he truly mean that?.. _Say it now_ , her mind nearly screamed. _This is the moment. Do the brave thing and tell him it is mutual_. To her shame, her throat was dry and her tongue felt like some tricky charm got it glued to the roof of her mouth.  
"I..." she began, her voice too high-pitched, provoking a small smirk from Rumpelstiltskin. Belle fidgeted but cleared her throat (which didn't help to get rid off the lump in it - her heart felt swollen and it probably took a bigger part of her chest than was designed by nature), and tried again, taking a deep breath.

 "I mean..."

Her almost-confession was cut short by the insistent, warm pressure of his lips. She was a bit vexed at the interruption but at the same time relieved that he postponed her own acknowledgement, letting her form an accurate sentence in her head. Not that the kiss facilitated the mental preparation of the speech she was gathering the courage to make; in fact, the thoughts successfully scattered away as Belle tiptoed and tilted her head to the side to avoid bumping their noses together.  
The girl steadied herself by sneaking her arms around his neck, her fingers languidly stroking the smooth silk of his shirt. Rumpelstiltskin suddenly jerked her closer, his arms wrapping around her back and making her all too-aware of how thin her night gown was. He pulled away for a second and Belle opened her eyes in surprise. Was something wrong? His eyes were closed, the pointy ends of his dark lashes threw shadows across his protruding cheekbones. Rumpelstiltskin frowned and she leaned into another kiss, silencing him because whatever he was going to say would probably break this moment.

Her tongue boldly curled around his, teasingly stroking and earning her an appreciative low groan from the man. Belle's fingers slid under the collar of his shirt, scratching along his neck and down his spine. Rumpelstiltskin pressed his wiry body into hers even further, trying to melt them into one being, to the point where his sharp angles poked into her soft flesh uncomfortably.  
His mouth claimed her mercilessly, the kiss turning into long thorough licks and mild bites as Rumpelstiltskin's hands fisted in the fabric of her gown, both of them frustrated at the faint barrier. If somebody told her half a year ago that she would be excited, standing almost naked in the library in the embrace of a scaled sorcerer, whose long black nails dug into the skin of her lower back and who made most feral, possessive grunts as he sucked on her bottom lip and drew inappropriate unladylike moans from her, Belle would call that person insane, at best. Yet now she found herself responding to the kiss with no less passion, her own matching nibbles and bites sending shivers of excitement down her spine.

Rumpelstiltskin did seem content with kisses only, although she would be happy to take the activity someplace else - the bed or at least the softer bench in the library. However, she had to say something before they got too carried away. Reluctantly, Belle gently pushed herself away from the man.  
"Wait, I should say that I..."

" _You_ , darling?" Interrupting her seemed to become his new favourite thing and Rumpelstiltskin cocked his head, mischief dancing in his eyes. He looked amused for no reason, reminding her - despite the added lines on his face and the silver in his hair - of the giddy dealmaker who was about to play a trick on her part. "My, my, I'd say we have a little misunderstanding here!"

Belle did little else but gape at him. What the?.. She must have been quite a sight with her mouth ajar and her hair messed up, for the man didn't have the decency to hold back a single snigger.  
"You didn't mean me as... as that _someone_?" She suggested awkwardly. Belle hated to ask but she had to know. The moment stretched and her pulse quickened, oh gods so she had only imagined this. She wasn't going to cry if he confirmed her dreadful suspicion, she was not going to cry, she wasn't...  
"Of course not, you silly girl," He pressed his hand to his chest with the most undignified and hurt look while Belle was surprised he didn't hear her own heart shatter at those words. "I was talking about Prince Charming, of course."

Belle blinked. Rumpelstiltskin kept staring at her gravely. She blinked again. And again. And then she snorted. Covering her mouth did little to contain her giggles and Belle laughed in relief till her stomach hurt. His jest wasn't that funny, considering she believed it true only a moment ago and that it prevented her from spilling her feelings for him. But it was the first time she remembered herself laughing in weeks and it seemed unstoppable.

"Well that... uh... was to be expected," she finally choked it out and Rumpelstiltskin gave her a crooked smile, wiping the tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes with his thumbs. "The signs were there all along, but I just turned a blind eye on them, eh?"

"Rumpelstiltskin? If you say you've found what makes you want to keep living, does it mean that?.."  
"It means that destiny loves the irony of it." Her shoulders drooped and he gently cupped her face, making her raise her watery eyes to meet his gaze. "Belle, I've seen my future and there's nothing there except for blank darkness. But it doesn't have to be the same way for you. Are you sure you don't want me to amend your memory and send you home?"

  
She slowly shook her head and he sighed. He intertwined his fingers with hers and kissed her small knuckles briefly before leading her out of the library.

"Alright then. Come, I'll prepare the morning tea. Or perhaps, you're frisky enough to try the new bitter brew from overseas called coffee?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good thing I wrote this chapter _before_ I've watched 3x20. Because now I hurt and feel betrayed. Quite frankly, it made me wanna kill Rumple in this fic. Like seriously.  
>  What did you think of the episode? Is it just me overdramatisizing or was it total and complete BS?


	47. Breathless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I assure you this chapter has nothing to do with me being upset about 3x20. It was raining and i just got a bit angsty.  
> I'd kindly ask you to read it through before deciding to give up on me and this fic.

Belle couldn’t breathe. She woke up, gasping for air, her hand flying to her throat to ensure there was nothing around her neck that could restrain the passage of the oxygen to her lungs. Ever so slowly, after a series of short hungry inhales the nightmare began releasing its sickening clutch on her. She dreamt she was being held under water, which was no surprise, really, after several days of feeling like she was drowning.

Belle thought that after his admittance of her, well, being _special_ and her almost-confession of the feelings she held for the man, it’d be easier – that they’d work together, searching for clues to break the curse or whatever force possessed Rumpelstiltskin; that they could still occasionally laugh and enjoy each other’s company – but it was only wishful thinking. The man’s rapid changes of mood were unpredictable and he chose to retreat to the shadows, leaving her confused. On some days he was bitter, giving up and staring off into space blankly. On others he had sudden bursts of energy, flipping through books, mixing concoctions and madly scribbling away on rolls of parchment. Frankly, Belle did not favour either of the moods. She wished… she just wished things would be different, without the threat of unspoken inevitable disaster burdening their existence.

She fell asleep in the library again. No wonder – her bed was cold and unwelcoming, Rumpelstiltskin had refused to come close to her, suddenly certain this disease was contagious. Belle felt that he didn’t want to see him like that – worn, thinned down, _afraid_ – she never was good at hiding her emotions. He most likely lurked in the darkness of his tower, moody and restless. He must be still ashamed of that incident they had – she prepared him a nutrition potion and it was excellently brewed because the colour matched the description in the book perfectly and she was so proud of herself. She was proud up to the moment when after an hour of talking Rumpelstiltskin into drinking it he softened and did as she bid only to successfully throw the concoction up all over his shoes and the floor. It wasn’t his fault, really, but he took it as a severe blow to his ego.

The changes concerned not only Rumpelstiltskin – the Castle was different too. No more self-igniting candles, tables full of food or doors that could open themselves. The mansion grew quieter, collecting dust and cobwebs, the diminishing magic of its owner no longer keeping it in order. Just as well.

Belle hoped she could stay brave and cheerful, but the worry gnawed at her. She could turn to some other magician, or charlatan or healer or even to the Evil Queen herself but the girl wasn’t stupid. No one would help the Dark One; the world would not miss him, even if his mischief and terror were more of an imposed aura than actual deeds.

Belle suppressed a yawn, covering her mouth with her hand more due to a habit than actually aware of being un-ladylike. It was probably too early for being up, besides, she was of little use, her eyes were raw and tired and… her heart dropped before she even realized what was wrong. Bewildered, she darted to the torch on the wall, not trusting her fingers, because it couldn’t just be what it appeared it was. Belle gasped. But the soft light confirmed what her other senses told her – the sapphire ring that Rumpelstiltskin gave her, the beautiful ring that she tweaked around her finger and grunted in frustration when she couldn’t take it off – was now gone. Which meant only one thing.

“My gods, Rumpelstiltskin,” she whispered and the dry cracking voice that she heard could not belong to her. She dropped to her knees, reaching under the table to retrieve the ring that reflected the light innocently.  If there was no magic in it remaining…

With her hands cold and her feet numb, Belle hurried out of the library. Oh please, let it be not too late. She broke into a run once outside the library, not bothering to take the torch with her and negotiating the dark corridor by memory.  She paused as she reached the stairs, cold sweat running down her spine as the loud pounding of blood in her ears distracted her from the stillness and deafening silence of the Castle. Belle paused on top of the stairs, hesitant. She didn’t know what hour it was and she hadn’t got the faintest idea where Rumpelstiltskin could be. Perhaps he was in his tower? Or had he decided to go to his room and rest for once? She chewed her bottom lip, unconsciously biting down on it hard. She could search both places, of course, but they were on the opposite sides of the castle and her hunch told her every second was valuable, even though there was very little she could do, now that…

A muffled thud of something being dropped down, coming from downstairs interfered with her train of thought and she shuddered at the noise that startled her. The girl flew down the staircase two steps at a time, her nightgown clenched in her fists as she pulled the hem up not to trip over the ridiculously long thing. Belle reached the doors of the grand room, throwing her arms out to push them open, the hard wood scratching her hands but the minor pain did little to distract her. As the two halves of the doors opened with a creak the girl froze in the doorway. She bit the inside of her cheek until she drew blood – the thick taste of it providing enough reassurance to convince Belle that she, unfortunately, was not asleep. Even though what she was seeing could very well have emerged from one of her nightmares.

The cruel moon light, white and heartless, invaded the room. Its unflattering direct rays illuminated everything with unnatural precision – for it certainly seemed too harsh and bright in the chamber – the smooth surface of the table and the thick carpet, the worn arch of the spinning wheel and… and a small curled figure next to the overturned sitting bench. Belle heard a small choking noise and it took her a moment to realize that it was her own strained sob. She wanted to scream but only a pathetic broken whimper left her lips. She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to contain the eerie, inhuman keens and bit on her fingers to distract herself, but it didn’t help. The figure at the end of the room did not move. Oh no, no, _no_ , dear gods, it didn’t mean that…

Belle commanded her body to move, pushing herself forward but her legs seemed too wobbly to make a proper step. A sudden anger flooded her, she hated feeling so helpless and not being able to make a few steady steps. _Yes, concentrate on anger_ , a tiny inner voice whispered, _do not let your mind dwell on what you_ _’re seeing_. It did seem to help as the rage broke the immobility. Belle reeled but made a step forward, and then another one until she hastened and closed the distance between the doors and the wheel. She tripped over a book that lay carelessly on the floor in her rush, falling onto her knees but paying no mind to the sharp pain that shot to her joints. She crawled the last meter that separated her and the man and reached out for him. The girl suddenly stopped before her hands could touch the stiff folds on the dragon hide coat. Her stomach roiled with fear that paralyzed her senses, she was too frightened to touch him and confirm that…

“Rumpelstiltskin,” she whispered, even though his name was drowned in desperate, wrecked sobs. “Oh please _don_ _’t_ …”

And then the tears came, rushing and unwanted, blurring Belle’s vision. She blinked and tried to wipe them away but the stubborn fluid came back. The tears were hot and painful, blinding her. It seemed they could burn marks onto her cheeks and Belle would be grateful for it. The pain was maddening instead of numbing, she wished the physical hurt could take away some of it because surely, her heart would not be able to bear it, it would burst and end this torture, but it didn’t. Her stupid heart kept beating, prolonging the agony, deaf to her unspoken pleas of mercy and desired cessation.

Her mind kept whispering it wasn’t true, because it couldn’t be. Such a thing could never happen to her, and since it couldn't be real, there were no more reservations about touching him. If only the tears would stop and the annoying, choking background sobs would end.

Tentatively, Belle turned the man onto his back; the sound that his leather clothes made twisting her features in a grimace. In the surreal light his face was calm and his body limp. Too limp and pliable to mistake it for sleep as surely he’d wake up to the touch and her cries. The tears still came, trickling down her neck and getting absorbed into the cotton of her nightgown, making the fabric stick to her skin wetly, but Belle barely noticed it. She shifted and leaned against the warm wood of the spinning wheel, gently pulling Rumpelstiltskin’s head onto her lap.

“Please don’t leave me,” she sobbed, stroking his hair, combing it with her fingers and disentangling the soft grey strands from the darker curls. “Wake up, please, _oh please wake up_!”

The silence wrapped its thick cloak around them and Rumpelstiltskin did not stir in her embrace. His head lolled to the side when she let go of it briefly and she bit on her tongue hard not to scream at that. Belle shut her eyes tightly, the wet cool lashes unpleasantly smacking her cheeks and opened them again with much effort, her face contorting with pain as her cleared eyes fixed on him. Belle’s fingers shook as she wiped her own glistening tears away from Rumpelstiltskin’s face only to witness the replacing droplets land of his features.

“You cannot do this to us,” Belle went on, swaying from side to the side a little as her hands cradled his face. “You cannot!”

She bent down, her lips inches away from his as if the proximity could make him hear her better and elicit some kind of – _any_ – reaction from him.

“You’re all I have. I cannot go on without you. I do not know how to, I do not _want_ to!” She babbled, sensing the cold overwhelming _nothing_ , a welcomed emptiness settle in the pit of her stomach.

The tears stained his skin, making it glitter vividly but the miracle did not happen – his eyes didn’t flutter open. Belle knew her rambling was pointless, that it wasn’t a silly game he was playing but her mind refused to believe it was the end. Her breath ghosted over his lips but for the first time in forever he didn’t scowl or sigh or lean into the touch. Her lips met no responding puff of his breath.

“You would never dare to leave without learning something important.” There was no need for bravery now, no secrets remaining and her whispering turned urgent and feverish.

“I’ll make you a deal, Rumpelstiltskin,” despite herself Belle giggled. Perhaps she was losing her sanity, but what the hell did she need it for now?

“You like deals, don’t you? Well, how about you wake up and I tell you something?” The man remained motionless but it did not discourage Belle one bit. “Oh, you don’t think I’ve got anything worthy to offer, hmm? Fine. I’ll tell you anyways.”

She bent even lower, closing her eyes that began to hurt and feel dry despite the continuing stream of tears.

“I love you, Rumpelstiltskin. I loved you since the moment I returned to find you at this very wheel, looking lost and miserable. Don’t you think this deserves waking up? I’ve loved you even after we’d fight and I’ve been falling for you even more with each passing moment. I will always love you, no matter what happens.”

Belle pressed her lips to his cooling ones, willing and praying with every fiber of her being for… for something.

She knew he loved her just as much but alas, in real life true love’s kisses held no power over life and death.

“It’s okay, love,” she whimpered, biting down on her lip. “We’ll manage. I know we will.”

Belle thought she saw the tears soak into his tainted skin, giving off a soft glow but she couldn’t trust her shifting, blurry vision. And then she heard something that made her shiver.

She strained her burning eyes, but nothing in Rumpelstiltskin’s calm features confirmed what she heard. Sudden tranquility took the place of hysterical crying and in the newfound quietness Belle clearly heard a…

 _Thud_.

Oh but her mind was playing cruel tricks on her.

Carefully lowering his head back onto the carpet, Belle draped her body over his, hiding her face in the crook of his neck even though the sharp lapel of his cloak cut into her cheek.

Her imagination was cruel but what harm would come from succumbing into the fantasy and believing it for a while?

“I’ll just rest next to you, love,” she said in a confounding whisper. “It’s okay, it all will be alright eventually.”

She sighed and traced her fingers along his forehead and down the crooked line of his nose.

 When Belle’s fingers brushed across his thin lips, she jerked her hand away with a shriek, her heart beating against her ribcage, running miles an hour.

She could be going insane but not even her imagination was that faulty.

Her wet fingertips encountered something that didn’t belong there but what she was desperate for.

A weak fanning rustle of a breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, I need to know what you think! This chapter just poured out of me and I'm just argh nervous as hell about it and ripping my hair out, dreading your reaction


	48. Phantom Hope

Belle tried to push away the desperation and helplessness that washed down on her the next morning. She fought the tears that threatened to flood her again. The girl held her breath and put her ear to Rumpelstiltskin's chest, sighing contently as an even, although very quiet, heartbeat slowly calmed her nerves. He wasn't alright but he was alive. She would figure something out and this nightmare would be over.

Belle felt like she shouldn't leave him; her presence appeared to bring no changes to his state but she was unable to stop touching him, clinging onto his hand to remind herself that he did not abandon her. And if she knew how to do one thing - that was how to be stubborn enough to pursue her goals.

She tried to reason herself into starting the day and moving around, thinking that Rumpelstiltskin would hardly approve of her idly sitting at his side, disheveled and tear-stained and rose to her feet. Belle looked at the fireplace and, remembering how cold the man had recently felt, she decided that it wouldn't hurt to light it; the castle was not the warmest of places despite the summertime and the blazing sun outside that mocked her sorrow. But then, she didn't exactly have a reason for grievance either.

The girl fumbled with matches and not quite dry logs, frowning and huffing as several matches broke. When the fire surrendered to her efforts and began cracking merrily, Belle paused to admire her handiwork. There was something captivating in the way orange and red flames licked pieces of wood. Then a funny idea crossed her mind and she turned to the man.

“You will laugh so hard if – _when_ – you find out about this,” she murmured more to herself than anything. She shifted on the floor uncomfortably, and grasped the lapels of his dragon hide cloak so as to give herself some courage.

“Please come back to me.” She delicately placed her dry lips over his thin ones. Belle felt strange, keeping her lips unmoving as it would be too creepy to do more. She sighed and closed her eyes, willing her emotions to flow through her body and into his. For a few blissful seconds she believed it worked and that the tickling of his soft breath against her cheeks sped up. Carefully opening one eye to glance at his face revealed no changes. Belle straightened up and folded her hands in her lap.

She had little doubt that kissing him last night was crucial; perhaps it mattered whether she did it with intent or not, guided by instinct or knowledge; possibly, it worked only when least expected. Or she had to gradually kiss him back to life. Or the true love’s kisses were just a myth. So many speculations and so few certainties.

It would be better if she could transport Rumpelstiltskin to his bedchambers or at least make him more comfortable. Lacking any realistic options or ideas, Belle propped his head on a velvet cushion, pulling it off the armchair. With that done, it was time to attend to her own needs.

“I’ll be right back,” she reassured Rumpelstiltskin, who, naturally, made no response, but the girl found it to be soothing if she talked to him. Her voice was a bit raspy but knowing he might hear her, made her feel a little more brave.

Belle quickly washed herself and braided her hair, avoiding looking at the glass she kept on her vanity to remind herself of how she felt and what she went through to get those red puffy eyes and dark circles. She chose a modest light brown dress before hurrying back to the grand room. Belle dragged another cushion off the chair to sit on and put her joined fingers under her chin as she stared at Rumpelstiltskin. If she looked close enough, she could observe the slight rise and fall of his chest. Otherwise there were no changes to his state, which could be both a good and a bad sign.

Minutes stretched – the sun was still low in the skies – but it seemed like it had been days since she found the man catatonic. Reluctant as she was to, it’d probably be better to occupy herself with something. Belle decided she ought to polish his spinning wheel; in that way she could kill time being productive and prepare it for his return. Just when the girl was about to fetch the varnish and a cloth, she caught a glimpse of a sunbeam with the corner of her eyes. Reaching under the table, she pulled out a thin book, decorated with sophisticated golden swirls of flowers and vines pressed into the cover.  She tripped over it last night and that was probably why it had ended up under the table.

She tried not to be too hopeful, but it couldn’t just be a coincidence. Certainly if Rumpelstiltskin was reading it or kept it near instead of storing it in the tower along with the rest of the books, the little volume was important; maybe it had the key to what happened to the man. The excitement drained out of her when Belle glanced at the first page – the whole thing was written in runes.  _That’s a bit of a let down_ , she thought to herself, flipping aimlessly through the pages.

Unusual drawings caught her eyes. The artist must have been poorly skilled for they mostly looked like ink blotches and shapeless dark contours. Belle gasped when she realized what those drawings represented; they were no random dark spots. If fact, one of them, connected to a figure of a man at his feet clearly resembled a _shadow_. She knew she had to read the book now, she was positive it held the answers she sought. There could be a way to do this without learning to decipher runes; a quick translation spell would enable her to understand the markings for a short while and, if needed, she would keep casting it.

“If you keep the fire roaring like that, my dear, he will just rot faster from the heat.”

Belle yelped in surprise as a smarmy female voice slithered into her ears. She turned abruptly, hearing her neck snap at the swift movement, and quickly jumped to her feet to glance at the intruder. Not far from her, in a reveling blood-red dress which looked to be tightly laced to the point where it would be impossible to breathe, and an accompanying embroidered cloak, stood the Evil Queen.

“But if that was your intention, pray do not mind me.” Regina’s painted lips pulled back in a gloating smirk as if she said something truly amusing. Belle was so shocked to see the woman in the Dark Castle that she felt too stunned for words. Did she just stride in, surpassing the locked doors to take something of Rumpelstiltskin’s?

“What are you doing here?” The Queen asked when Belle failed to speak and the girl was smothered by indignation.

“I beg your pardon? I was about to ask you the same thing! I  _live_ here and…” Belle clenched her hands around the ridge of the book so hard her knuckles turned white. How dare she show up and demand explanations?

“I thought you’d flee the second the bastard began showing signs of weakness. Didn’t he share with you where he kept his most valuable trinkets?”

“… _and_ I see no reason for you to pollute the air with your presence,” Belle pressed through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to throw the valuable book or anything at Regina. Apparently, she did not intend to leave until she was done sneering.

“If you sell them and collect enough money…”

_Breathe, Belle, breathe, do not let her enjoy seeing you lose your temper._

“…and influence, people might someday forget that you once were the Dark One’s whore.”

_Those are just words, they cannot hurt you._

Regina paused, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she awaited a furious reply, but Belle wasn’t about to indulge her. Instead, she smiled sweetly and cocked her head, letting her eyes sweep down the woman’s form, trying to convey how much disgust she held for her persona.

“My, my! Your Highness, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re jealous,” Belle said slowly and the Queen’s face twisted; that hit too close to the truth. “Were you rejected by him? Did you, an innocent young apprentice, offer your body and soul to your master only to be rejected and laughed at?”

“How dare you! I could turn you into a pig at a snap of my fingers!”

“But you haven’t done it, so I suppose you do require a shoulder to cry on about this student-seducing-the-teacher mishap. Or a full-blown failure, if you like.”

“Shut up,” Regina strained, her sugary voice dropping all pretense. “You know nothing.”

Of course Belle had no idea what Rumpelstiltskin’s relationship with the witch was like, but she darkly savoured the reaction her bluff had on the woman.

“Maybe I don’t,” Belle agreed easily. “Or perhaps, he told me every amusing detail.”

“Did he, now? He’s never been talkative in bed.” Belle restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Was it the best Regina could do, imply Rumpelstiltskin had a liaison with her or was he unfaithful? “So did you two like to plot together after he would soil you with his touch?”

Belle closed her eyes tiredly and took a deep breath. The Queen distracted her from doing something important, from trying to get to the cause of the sorcerer’s illness and despite her calm appearance, Belle felt like she could snap at any moment. She hated how much poison dripped into her speech but she just wanted to get rid of this undesirable guest.

“Your Majesty, I believe we have no common subjects to discuss. I’d kindly ask you to leave; I or this Castle have nothing of which you seek.”

“What I seek is vengeance,” Regina snapped, narrowing her eyes; the younger girl’s ostentatiously controlled voice only fueling her temper. “Do you have any idea what his filthy servant - that repugnant shadow of his, intended to do to me?”

“I…” Belle felt taken aback; she had completely forgotten about it. “He said it wouldn’t be fatal…”

“Oh sure, I could trust the imp’s word anytime,” the Queen cut off her babbling. “I should parade his mouldering carcass around the kingdoms. That example would serve the fools who believe themselves stronger than me just right.”

Belle’s heart shrank painfully as her worst suspicions were confirmed. So Regina’s was indeed behind this mysterious illness. The girl stopped paying attention to her words, studying the visitor intently.  _There must be a reason for this_ , her mind prompted.  _She wouldn’t be here talking and tolerating you unless she can somehow gain from it._ And as far as she could trust her intuition, the girl could gain from this encounter as well, but it didn’t mean she should lower her guards down.

“You will do nothing of the sort,” Belle said quietly when her companion ran out of the blood-chilling things she could do to impose unknown fear over her subjects and to commit sacrilege to the body of the “deceased”.

"Oh? And why not? Because his little pet will prevent me?”

“Yes,” Belle nodded plainly, immune to the taunt. “And because Rumpelstiltskin is not dead.”

“He’s not…” Regina’s voice trailed off as she looked at Belle and the Dark One’s body on the floor. Then suddenly she threw her head back and laughed.

“You cannot… Dear gods, are you telling me you actually  _loved_ the fiend?”

“He was no such thing!” She argued hotly and Regina cackled the last time before becoming serious once again.

In a rustle of skirts she approached Belle and towered over her, but the girl pushed her chin up stubbornly. She knew that with her gentle nature, plain gown and puffy eyes she was no match for the overly confident Regina wearing her impeccable make up and exquisitely crafted garments, but it mattered little. Whatever the woman saw in her, it did puzzle and awe her.

“You did love him,” she repeated, amazed.

“I still _do_ ,” Belle stated boldly.

“Interesting,” the Queen drawled and a corner of her mouth twitched upwards. “How far would you go to bring your little demon lover back, pet? I think I may have just what he needs to start prancing around and multiplying misery again, but I must know what are you willing to do.”

“Anything,” Belle whispered hoarsely, licking her suddenly dry lips. She knew it was a trap and that she shouldn’t play along with the witches rules, not so easily at least, but she was eager to do whatever was required. If there was even the faintest hope Regina could fix things…

“Anything?” The Queen arched an eyebrow expectantly but stopped smiling.

“Yes.”

She could almost see the wheels turning and some vicious plan forming behind the smirk that slowly spread on Regina’s beautiful, but cruel, face.

“Then, my dear, I am pleased to announce that our collaboration may turn out to be quite beneficial for both sides.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear - I love Regina, but you know, she wasn't named the Evil Queen for nothing and I needed a villain for this story. So yeah, my apologies to all the Regals out there :)


	49. A Loving Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've said it before, but... I'd like to thank you again - yes, **you** \- for your support, reviews, kudos and kind words. It means a world to me. Having you out there, reading and walking along with Rum and Belle was a huge confidence boost and if it wasn't for you, this story would never be.
> 
> So yes, it ends here. I realize (oh boy, do I ever!) that it's most likely not the ending you expected or hoped for.
> 
> If you like it and find it worthy of your time to tell me so - please pause and say it. If not - then let me know for sure so that I may gradually improve.
> 
> Buckets of love & gratitude & ginormous thanks. I'll leave you to the chapter

Instead of letting her mind dwell on what was in store for her in this unlikely partnership, Belle wanted to urge Regina to give her some answers.

“So… what happened to Rumpelstiltskin?” Although unspoken, _what did you do to him_ hung in the air.

“What _I_ did to him? Rest assured this misfortune was none of my doing.” The Queen’s smile widened, the small perfect teeth contrasting with the deep red of her lipstick. Belle felt like her patience would snap any moment.

“Do you take me for a fool? You come here, to his home as he collapsed with no signs of life just after a fortnight, looking for something to steal and you want me to believe it’s a coincidence? I want the truth, Regina, and if you do not care enough to stop those games of yours, I want you out of this Castle this very instant.”

“My, my, aren’t you a feisty one,” the Evil Queen didn’t appear to be put off by the girl’s reaction although her amusement somewhat decreased. “I might just see what he could have fancied about you. Very well, my dear, you shall have it your way.” Regina turned away and walked to the far side of the table, turning to glance over her shoulder to ensure Belle was following her. Reluctantly, the girl came after the woman but sat down as far from the witch as her manners permitted her. Regina crossed her legs and smoothed out her skirt before calmly looking up at Belle. It was almost surreal – an outsider could mistake them for two acquaintances enjoying a light morning chat. Except that Belle was talking to a woman, who told her to kill queen regent, kidnapped her and contributed to her love’s near-death.

She gently placed a book she still clutched on the table and folded her hands in her lap, curling her fingers in fists until the dull ache of her nails sinking into the soft flesh of her palms, grounded her and reminded the girl that she needed to hear the other woman out if she ever wanted to see Rumpelstiltskin alive and well again.

“Aren’t you going to offer me tea?” Regina asked sweetly and earned herself the hardest scornful glare her companion could muster.

“I am not a servant,” Belle commented through her gritted teeth but that remark was waved off by the Queen’s glowed hand as she magiked up a tea tray and poured them both the brew with effortless grace. She took her time, sipping the amber liquid before she spoke again.

“You know how Rumple used to brag about balance and how everything in this world was linked instead of residing in chaotic subsistence?” Belle nodded but Regina hardly needed her acknowledgement.

“Well, guess who forgot about that himself.”

“I… I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. He kept you here for his own perverted pleasure while with me he actually took time to teach me something.”

Regina raised the cup to her lips to hide another smile but her heavily-lined eyes squinted gleefully and Belle wished the Queen would choke on the bloody tea; because otherwise the girl would take immense pleasure in strangling the witch herself and watching those mocking eyes widen with fear as her face turned blue.

“If you _dare to_ once again say that…” The end of the sentence was cut off by Regina waving a hand over the book that glowed faint green for a second before becoming plain.

“Oh hush, so sensitive you are.” The Queen flipped through the pages and pushed the open book back to Belle. “Here, I trust you can read?”

To Belle’s exasperation, the markings in the book were no longer runes but ordinary letters. Trying to banish the thought away – perhaps, the woman was right; she learned so little from Rumpelstiltskin while the Queen’s displays of magic were so natural and appeared to be of no cost to her – the girl focused on reading. She scanned the paragraph quickly and looked back up at the woman.

“It says that shadows are an inseparable part of a person. Like positive and negative energy, light and dark, night and day – one cannot exist without the other. Unless…”

“Unless you’re quite a powerful practitioner who can afford the luxury of magically supporting yourself for a while. But no one is powerful enough to do that.”

“But Rumpelstiltskin…”

“He overlooked. It’s so easy to forget about technicalities when you are deemed immortal. That, and a little acceleration spell applied to his shadow did the trick, which resulted in this,” Regina jerked her head in the direction where the sorcerer was lying but Belle didn’t turn to look. She could feel the bile rise in her throat and hoped she wasn’t going to lose the contents of her stomach – whatever remained there from dinner – right in front of the woman. How could this happen? Belle was against him separating his shadow from the very beginning, she _asked_ him not to harm the Queen and after all this time, after so many hours spent looking for answers, looking for _anything_ that could help, the clue – or, more like the absence of it – was right before their eyes.

“Rather ironic, if you look at it. The Dark One drowning in his own darkness. Strictly speaking, shadows aren’t light magic but his seemed to be the aggregation of whatever positive energy he possessed.” The Queen finished her tea, placing the cup on the saucer and looked at Belle expectantly.

“So,” Belle’s mind was racing as she tried to process what all of this meant, “if Rumpelstiltskin is alive, so is his shadow. And, I guess, you hold it captive. Once it returns to him, the equilibrium will be restored and he’ll be conscious and well?” Belle spoke slowly, uncertain if she got it right but Regina confirmed her words with a slight nod.

“The question is – what does it take to convince you to release his shadow, _Your Majesty._ ”

“Oh no, my dear, you do not have to convince me,” the Queen leaned over the table till her face was inches away from Belle’s and her voice dropped to a whisper; yet the words she spoke were clear and well enunciated. “It’s about what you can offer in return.”

“What is it you require?” Belle returned the stare fearlessly. Whatever the price, she had already agreed to pay it.

“Doesn’t matter, my sweet. Haven’t you promised me _anything_?”

So she did.

Regina pulled away abruptly and stood up.

“Come,” she beckoned to Belle as she rushed to the main doors.

“What? Wait!” The girl turned around to glance at Rumpelstiltskin. She couldn’t leave him like that. What if someone stumbled around? The Castle was no longer protected and it wasn’t safe to leave him alone. “Where are we going?”

“To my castle, of course,” Regina snapped and turned when she didn’t hear the girl’s footsteps. “What is it now?”

“I cannot just… leave him,” Bell protested and the Queen clucked her tongue in irritation.

“Would you prefer a stasis spell? Fine!”

“No!” Bell clutched the upraised arm before any spell was cast. She didn’t trust that woman to do any good with her charms. “No, it’s alright. But promise me no harm will come to him while I am away.”

Regina narrowed her eyes as the mere idea of her being asked for anything was appalling. But then, she still needed something from Belle so didn’t argue.

“I swear nothing will happen to him during your absence. Now, will you keep quiet and follow me?”

Belle nodded and grabbed the book off the table before speeding up her steps to keep up with the Queen. She wished she could have a private moment with Rumpelstiltskin, to whisper reassurance to him or even to find her ring – but she wasn’t parting with him forever, was she? Surely she’d see him again soon, after she fulfilled her end with the bargain with Regina and saw his shadow being set free.

This time the Evil Queen chose to arrive in a modest carriage – there were only two horses instead of six and no plumage or sparkling decorations to be found. Belle climbed onto the seat opposite of the woman and they travelled in silence; Regina didn’t spare her another glace and the girl tried reading the book. Not that it was very helpful as she learned nothing beyond what the Queen had already told her.

They arrived at the castle gates quickly – much faster than could be anticipated; Belle suspected it was due to magic but she neither wanted nor cared to enquire. The Queen jumped off the stairs of the carriage, ignoring the coachman who was about to offer her his help and hurried inside her mansion. With little choice of anything else to do, Belle followed the woman along grey stone corridors that seemed endless, twisting and turning until she felt like she was in the heart of a labyrinth.

“Where are you taking me?” she huffed impatiently, her breath quickened as she attempted to keep up with the Queen who seemed to walk faster than it was possible in those heeled shoes.

“You need to see someone before I reveal to you what your payment for Rumple’s shadow will be,” she replied without looking back or slowing down her stride.

“Oh.” Belle didn’t know what to think of it, so she kept quiet for the rest of the way, certain, that her questions would remain unanswered.

They stopped at the entrance of one of the chambers and Regina pulled the heavy doors open, inviting the girl to come in first. The room was a plain bedroom, furnished with a small table, soft carpet on the floor and a bookshelf – nothing like Belle imagined she would see. The room was occupied by a man on the bed; his shoulders were hunched and he stared at the wall opposite the bed. His hair was tousled and he wore a simple white shirt, open at the chest. He looked a little alien and lost in this room, especially when compared to the sophisticated expensive outfit of the Queen. The man paid no mind to the intrusion to his chambers and kept studying whatever there was in the bricks of the wall.

“Daniel,” Regina’s voice came out soft and soothing, as if she spoke to a dear friend from another life, where she was no evil witch and he was her equal. “I would like you to meet someone.” She nudged the girl forward, making her take few steps towards the bed and the strange man. “This is Belle, she is our guest.”

Belle was a little alarmed at how the Queen said _our_ guest. As far as she knew, Regina was a widow, surely this man was no king and yet she could almost detect warmth in the way this person was spoken to.

“I… Um… Yes, hello, Daniel.”

The man turned at the sound of her voice and she was stricken by how pained he looked. His eyes were large and blue, a little sunken in from poor nourishment but he seemed incredibly sad. He studied her, his gaze almost absent as if he couldn’t truly see her.

“Wh-What’s wrong with him?” Belle turned to Regina but received no reply. Swallowing hard, unnerved by the quietness and the man’s weird behavior, she took several steps forward.

“Sir, are you alright?”

Before she could do anything else, Daniel _lunged_ at her. With a shriek, Belle jumped back, except there was no use, he would still reach her and from the looks of it, he intended to snap her in two. Belle felt her back hit the wall and closed her eyes with fear; it happened too fast, it was no use. Even Regina’s magic couldn’t act so quickly.

There was a metal _clink_ but nothing touched Belle. Opening her eyes, she discovered the man – his handsome features twisted with rage as his hands pawed at the air – reaching for her, his movements restricted by a chain that linked both of his ankles to the iron bedpost.

“Now you see why I have him restrained,” Regina commented sadly and for the first time this day Belle saw a glimpse of a sincere person behind the mask of the Evil Queen. “Daniel is the reason I brought you here.”

“We used to be in love when we were young. Now, I stole him from death but he’s not quite himself.” Belle’s eyes widened but she found no power no interrupt Regina.

The story made her skin crawl and her eyes darted from the woman to the man, who looked insane, thrashing in his chains, grunting and trying to grasp her. When he couldn’t do it, he howled, his fingers sliding through his hair and Belle thought she saw him pull some of it out. Then Daniel hit himself hard, beginning to weep at the first blow and landing more of them to the side of his head. He ceased hurting himself only when Regina gently told him to stop; he then climbed back onto the mattress, positioning himself in the corner of the bed and began rocking back and forth, humming under his breath, his eyes once again staring off into space blankly.

“He’s been like that since he returned – either indifferent to the surroundings or aggressive.”

“I am so sorry, Regina,” Belle still trembled but she felt the sympathy creep up her chest; the Queen did not react to being called by her first name. “I truly am. It must be hell for you. But… I don’t understand what _I_ have to do with this.”

  
Regina turned her misty gaze towards her and the Queen’s eyes became hard and merciless again.

“You have everything to do with it, my dear.”

“But how?..”

“You see, Daniel is like that because he doesn’t remember me. Because he doesn’t _love_ me. But you… you can remedy that.”

Belle’s pulse quickened and she pressed against the wall harder.

“I can?”

“Oh yes, my dear. All he needs is to be able to love again. You can make him do it. By giving him your heart.”

“My _heart_?” Belle gasped and her hands protectively flew to her chest, covering it over where her heart pounded against her ribs. She shot a look at Daniel and felt her blood chill. There were red scratch marks right over the left side of his breast, exposed by the deep-cut shirt.

“You have done this before,” she whispered.

“Oh yes, I tried. But, you see, foreign hearts drive him crazy; he finds them maddening and tries to get rid off them.”

“What makes you think mine would be different?” Belle’s head was dizzy and she fought to stay upright. Gods, she wants to kill me. _She wants to kill me and take my heart for her resurrected lover._

“You will make all the difference in the word,” the Queen slowly approached her, trapping the girl between her slim body and the cold stone. “You heart is true. You love that abominable old dragon, do you not?” Regina hooked her finger under Belle chin, tugging the girl’s head up sharply to study her eyes. “And you would sacrifice it _willingly_.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Belle’s body and mind was on fire; was it the end of her? Could she still escape?

“Oh, I know it will work but in either case I am ready to try.”

_I am going to die. She will rip my heart out of her chest to be reunited with this monster._

“What will happen to me after… after you take it?” she choked, but strangely, no tears came. Regina took a step back, shrugging.

“Oh I don’t know. You may die, of course, or you may keep on living. You will either feel differently or see no change at all. I never cared enough for the donor to observe what happened to them afterwards; I always used older hearts of the people I didn’t know. My mother had quite a collection of those.”

Belle’s vision swam and she closed her eyes briefly, trying to hold back the nausea. The woman made it sound so mundane, so casual; as if it wasn’t her life and wellbeing that was at stake.

But then the girl remembered Rumpelstiltskin. Would it truly matter if she went on living without him, knowing she would never experience the pleasure of his touch, never see him smile? Perhaps she could survive this, return to his side. Was it the heart that had the feelings for him or was it her mind? Did some contracting muscle, merely a body part matter? Would her beloved sorcerer even notice the change?

“Do you guarantee then he will be safe? That Rumpelstiltskin will be well, unharmed and no consequences will befall him?” The girl hesitated not for the fear of her fate but for what consequences this sacrifice would have on her loved one. Was it, in a way, cruel of her to sentence him to the life where she would not be at his side? Was she selfish, passing the pain of her near-loss onto his shoulders?

“You have my word,” the Queen smiled.

Belle wetted her dry lips, feeling a little relieved.

“I want to see his shadow. To know that it’s freed and safe before you… before we do… _this_.”

“Smart girl,” Regina praised and led her away from the room and her lover to the other side of the castle.

The chamber they arrived at was empty except for numerous candles, forming strange intertwining patterns and lines on the floor. In the center of the room there was a ball of darkness, except… except that it wasn’t quite that. Belle strained her eyes and the dark mass shifted and curled, growing bigger and taller, stretching and morphing into…

“Rumpelstiltskin,” she breathed, both excited and mortified. There was no mistake to who the hawked nose, prominent in the shadows profile and the spiked boots belonged to.

The shadow turned to face her, its features blurring. It seemed to be made of ebony mist, but was thick enough so that Belle couldn’t see through it. The girl forgot about everything; she no longer paid attention to Regina behind her or the fact she may die soon.

She carefully stepped over the line of candle flames, taking care not to ignite the hem of her dress. The shadows silvery eyes were so familiar, her heart throbbed. They were tender and sad, larger than one could expect; those were the eyes of the man she loved. The eyes of the man she would give up the world for.

“Rumpelstiltskin,” she repeated, approaching the shadow that stretched its misty arms to her. Belle touched her palms to the shadow, feeling her flesh sink into its form a little. The shadow’s body was a little slick but solid and she enjoyed the feel of it, having regained the feel of his touch. It was different but it was still him. “It is all true.”

The shadow stared at her, unblinking while Belle drank in the sight of him. He _was_ Rumpelstiltskin and he wasn’t. That was a strange and unsettling but she did not experience any fright.

“You cannot talk, can you?”

The shadow shook his head and Belle involuntarily smiled at how familiar the gesture and the flying curls were.  She reached for them, marveling at the unusual texture.

“I came to free you, my love. To make you whole again.” She caressed the sides of the shadow’s face, trying to carve them into her memory. It could be the last time she saw him, the last time she _touched_ him. After all, should she survive this she may not remember the man nor feel anything for him.

She thought she saw worry and concern in the silver eyes as they darted towards the Evil Queen. Belle took the shadow’s arms and placed them firmly around her waist. She felt a little jealous. It was their moment, there was no room for anybody else.

“It’s alright, she’s helping us.” She tugged on the shadow’s clothing - invisible but she could feel hard ridges and the texture of it - making it bend lower to whisper into its ear outside the hearing reach of Regina. “When you’re back, tell him… Tell him that I love him,” she said quietly and the shadow nodded.

Before she could think, she tiptoed and parted her lips for a kiss, sighing when she felt the shadow kiss her back. It was different from the kisses she was used to; it was cool and smooth and both familiar and wrong sat the same time. Yet in the way the shadow nibbled on her bottom lip and teasingly stroked along her tongue she recognized her Rumpelstiltskin. Belle closed her eyes and savoured the kiss; she didn’t know how long it went on – a minute, an hour or a century. He was entirely hers and she would remember it for as long as she had time left to live.

She shut her eyes tightly, feeling the tears burn in them. She would not let the Queen enjoy her tears and let her know how scared she was.

When she had to come up for breath eventually, Belle didn’t pull away. She opened her eyes only when she was certain her tears were contained. The shadow stared at her intently and she gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“How do I free him?” she asked, turning to Regina.

“Just blow out any of the candles in the pentagram and he will be allowed to leave.”

“Do tell Rumpelstiltskin I love him,” she pressed her lips softly against the shadow’s cheek. “If you can, of course.”

Belle bent down but before she could blow out the candles, the shadow tugged her back up.

“What?”

The shadow looked at her, then at the Queen and back at Belle.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, love. The Queen and I have something to discuss and then I’ll return right back to the Castle.” The lie came unexpectedly easy and Belle thought even she could be convinced by how confident and cheerful her voice was. “Go, and don’t you worry about anything.”

She gave the shadow’s fingers a reassuring squeeze and quickly extinguished the light of the nearest candles.

Belle felt a faint brush of the fingertips on her cheek and then the shadow was gone. She was alone in the room with the witch.

The girl no longer felt afraid. She turned to the Queen, calmly taking several steps to her.

“Will it hurt?’

“Yes, but only a moment.” Regina replied frankly. “Then…” She shrugged and suddenly it was her who felt uncertain and out of place. “Do you still want to do this? Are you giving up your heart _willingly_?”  
“Yes. Yes I am.”

Belle thought she saw remorse and hesitance in the Queen’s eyes but then she had no time to dwell on it. Belle gasped at the hot piercing pain in her chest.

The last thing she remembered was the gloating smirk on Regina’s face. And then her world went blank and sank into darkness.

***

Miles away in his Castle Rumpelstiltskin bolted upright. His head hurt and his memory was fuzzy but he knew something was wrong. The terrible feel of doom and guilt gnawed on his insides, even though he didn’t know what it had to do with.

“Belle,” he choked; even though he still had not figured out what happened, he had to fix it. He ought to have screamed but his voice was too weak. And then he _remembered._ "Belle.”

He was completely alone and the imposing silence of the Castle did not let his voice carry any further. He repeated the name as a prayer, as the declaration of hope, but there was no one to answer it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A possible sequel [here ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1741553/chapters/3718019)

**Author's Note:**

> Moment of shameless promotion. I'm now a co-admin of a Rumbelle group on [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/RumbelleFairytale?fref=nf)  
> How are we different from a gazillion of other groups? We have daily #NighTales - short stories with accompanying arts to spark your imagination before sleep ;)


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